


Gone

by BellaTrixster



Series: Gone Trilogy [1]
Category: Gone Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 72,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaTrixster/pseuds/BellaTrixster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the day of Philadelphia’s sacking, Daniel Richards’ life has been rough. After watching his parents’ brutally murdered and his brother kidnapped, he tried his best to scrape a life together. He received a brief education at the Academy, but Danny’s traumatic nightmares began to interfere with his ability to work and he is forced out onto the streets with little more than his name and the clothes on his back. Left to pick up the pieces of his shattered life and discover the truth about the attack on his family while also struggling to survive in dystopic Philadelphia Danny must use all of his wit, charm, and sarcasm to uncover the truth and prepare for his uncertain future ahead of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Daniel Richards_.”

Danny jerked his head up at the sound of the teacher calling his name impatiently to see a very displeased look in her dark grey eyes as she stood over him. “You were sleeping, again,” she informed him.

He felt his stomach flip as he lifted his head from his desk with half of his dark, curly hair stuck to his forehead and cheek, the rest of his face flushed with either embarrassment or sleepiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled sleepily. He looked down at the desk with his forest green eyes not wanting to see the disappointment in her face. He knew what she was going to do whether he looked up or not.

Miss Johnston was going to send him away. He’d fallen asleep in her class far too many times in the past few weeks due to recurring nightmares. Not that they cared. Performance was all that mattered in the Academy. Danny knew there were many people that tried to get into the school, and not many did. He was surprised when _he_ received his acceptance letter into the Academy. While he was decently smart, the few weeks before he’d gotten his letter he’d worried that he still wasn’t good enough. And it seemed that he wasn’t after all.

“See me after class,” she said as she paced back to the front of the classroom.

Danny kept his eyes locked on his desk, certain if he looked up that he would find others looking at him in amusement. He had no friends here.

At the end of class, Danny remained in his seat while the rest of his classmates hurried out of the room. He wasn’t sure if they were desperate to get out of the room before Miss Johnston started on him, or if they just wanted to get away from the classrooms. Either way, he didn’t blame them. If he could have, he would have left the room, but he knew that if he left the room he would lower his already pretty low chances of staying at the Academy.

For the first few minutes, Miss Johnston sat behind her desk sorting through papers that his class had turned in earlier that day, her eyes never leaving the papers until she was finished with them. Danny stayed in his seat, staring at the walls of the room, pretending to find interest in them though he had seen the posters and papers on the walls hundreds of times.

Finally, she stood up and walked toward him leaving the stack of papers in a neat pile on her desk. Danny’s eyes instantly glued themselves to the desk in front of him, refusing to make any sort of eye contact with her.

“Daniel,” she started, and for once in a long time she actually sounded sincere and gentle, but underneath it all Danny didn’t think she meant it, “you’ve fallen asleep in my class too many times,” she continued, now struggling to keep the gentleness in her voice, “and I’m afraid I’m going to have to report you to the office.”

Danny nodded numbly, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay,” he said stiffly as he opened his eyes again and met her stormy gaze. He stood up from his desk, stalked out of the room, and walked down the hallway, careful not to run into anything or say anything that he might regret.

The hallway was already empty by the time he left the room. All of the other kids had gone back to their dorm rooms upstairs. It only made him realize just how much he was going to miss the place. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have a choice now. He’d messed up too many times.

‡

Hunter hated his cage. He knew he was somewhere in Philadelphia, but he wasn’t sure _where_ exactly. The cages had been shifted and moved around recently, but his cage had been covered, meaning that he couldn’t see out of it. For him it also entailed that it was dark and quite noisy from the other people that were either shuffling around him or crying out. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience.

Not surprisingly enough, he didn’t know anyone here. That had partly been because he’d been kept in one of these cages for so long that he’d given up on counting the days, and partly because he hadn’t tried to get to know anyone. At this point, he believed it was useless to try to get to know people. One minute he would be talking to them, the next, they were being dragged away. Hunter was starting to get the feeling that someone didn’t _want_ him to know anyone.

The noise around him was loud enough that he hadn’t even heard the clicking of boots as they approached his cage. “You,” said the gruff voice of what Hunter assumed was one of the guards. He jumped, not realizing that someone had come to his cage. “Up. Now.” The man jerked open the cage door, reached into the cage and forcefully pulled Hunter out of it by the dark hair at the nape of his neck. Nearly losing his balance, Hunter forced himself to keep a straight face. “It’s your lucky day, boy,” the man sneered, his dark eyes seemed to glow in the lowly lit room, if you could call it a room. “You get to see the Boss.”

Hunter caught the not-so-friendly grin from the man as he turned in the direction he shoved him toward wherever he was supposed to be going. He probably would have run had it not been the fact that his legs felt like they were going to crumple beneath him—had he been fed right, he would have been able to make a run for it. He was stuck between the ideas that he would have been able to get a decent distance away from the man before he even realized that he’d taken off. Or maybe the man would have realized right away and possibly whacked him in the back of the head and then be dragged there. Hunter didn’t feel like taking his chances when they were already so poor.

“Stay here,” the man said sternly as he pushed past the door in front of them, spilling fluorescent light into the dark hallway before swinging shut again, leaving him in almost total darkness. Still not willing to test his already terrible luck, he waited outside the door occasionally catching a word or two, but never enough to determine what kind of conversation the two people were carrying on.

The man, who Hunter could now barely see, walked outside the room with an annoyed look fixed on his face. He grabbed Hunter by the collar of his shabby shirt and dragged him into the room, not even bothering to see if he was all right. Not that he expected that he would.

The room was bright, and it hurt Hunter’s eyes. The fluorescent lights flickered threateningly. Dirt and trash littered the floor. Hunter was certain that if he looked elsewhere in the warehouse that it would look nearly the same in cleanliness. An ancient-looking desk covered in stacks upon stacks of messy papers sat in a dingy corner as well as a man sitting in a chair beside the desk with a mildly interested look to his eyes.

“Here he is,” the man said as he roughly pushed Hunter forward.

Hunter stumbled across the dirty floor, barely managing to keep his unreliable balance. “Good,” the other man said as he raised one eyebrow, peering over Hunter curiously. Hunter didn’t like the look. “You’re name is Hunter, right?” he inquired. Hunter nodded slowly, unsure of what he was getting into. The man’s lip twitched upwards in the start of a small smile. “My name is John Murray,” he told him as he looked toward the other man and waved him away dismissively. “I’ll talk to you later, Baker.”

Baker muttered something under his breath as he turned to leave the room.

John stared after the man in disapproval before returning his attention to Hunter with a sigh. “I’m sorry about him,” he said apologetically. “He’s not the best with people relations.” Hunter wasn’t sure whether he actually meant the apology. For the time being he stuck with what he knew normally went. It wasn’t real.

 _Doesn’t seem like any of you are good with people relations_ , Hunter thought to himself, his forest green eyes finding interest in the dirty ground. He hoped that John didn’t notice the angry tension rising off him.

“But,” John started as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket that didn’t seem to match the rest of his shabby outfit, “business is business.”

“What did you want me for?” Hunter said, allowing just a touch of bitterness to seep into his words. He held John’s gaze waiting for him to snap at him.

John pulled a hand out of his suit pocket and ran his hand along his jaw in thought. “I wanted to get a look at you,” he replied after a moment, pursing his lips. That surprised Hunter immensely, thinking John was going to snap at him for his tone. “I knew your parents. I wanted to make sure you were who I thought you were.” If it was supposed to make Hunter feel better, it didn’t.

Hunter was confused, but only for a moment, before he glared at John. “Well,” he said stiffly, “I guess you didn’t know they were dead then, did you?” he muttered.

John ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair with a sigh as if the question was something he hadn’t intended on answering. “I did,” he started slowly, “You’d understand—”

He shook his head, but kept his eyes on John. “I don’t think _you_ understand. I know your name,” Hunter said venomously. “I remember your name. I don’t know what you did, or who you are. But I remember the name.”

John snorted in laughter. “I was friends with your father,” he said, affection ringing true in his voice. Hunter couldn’t argue with that. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that it was true, at least to some extent. “I remember you,” he said, his grey eyes looking less than friendly. “Anna and James died for the same reasons that a lot of others have died. They refused to listen to reason. I tried to convince them,” he said shaking his head, no longer paying all of his attention to Hunter as if he was already lost in memories. “I tried, and they wouldn’t listen.”

Hunter shook his head. He didn’t care to hear about it. They were dead, and it was in the past. He was focused on what the future would bring. “And these people you control? You just allow them to murder innocents?” Hunter scoffed.

The sandy haired man seemed to think it was amusing. “There are people in the world that would do _anything_ for money,” he said shrugging his shoulders, not seeming to care about it too much. Hunter was beginning to dislike him as the moments wore on. “You’re just not one of those people.”

Hunter set his jaw and squinted at John, trying to decide why on Earth the man had even decided to make him leave his cage. “Why did you have me dragged here?” he huffed, staring at him in disbelief. “If you knew my parents like you say you did, then you already know talking me down won’t work.”

“I’m usually good at convincing people,” John said as he stifled a yawn.

Hunter clenched his jaw stubbornly as he glared back at him. John wasn’t making much sense to him. If he knew his parents as he said he had, then none of what he was saying was adding up. “If you don’t have anything else to say to me that’s meaningful, I’d _love_ to go back to my cage,” he said stiffly.

The older man snorted but nodded. “I have more to say,” he promised as he slipped his hand back into the pocket of his suit jacket. “I just need to know that you can trust me.”

Hunter shrugged his shoulders. Right now, John wasn’t giving him any real reason to trust him. “Just take me back to my cage,” he grumbled shaking his head. John gave him a sympathetic look that only lasted for a short moment before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him toward the door.

‡

Danny flattened himself out across the bed of a rundown building he’d managed to find and stared up at the ceiling in boredom with his pack cast out beside him. What more was there for him to do? He couldn’t go back to the Academy; they would only throw him back onto the streets. He could stay in the rundown place and hope that nobody came through, but that was likely. There were always people roaming around looking for things now that the city was so rundown.

There was nobody in the building for now anyway. He would be alone, at least for a little while.

He scoffed at the thought of being alone. This would be the first time in years that he’d be on his own. Nobody was there to tell him what to do—which he appreciated—but it meant that he would be by himself. He would have to find food for himself and hope that nobody felt like kidnapping him or murdering him while he slept.

It had seemed easy enough at first when the thought had come to him. But the last time he’d been alone had been right after he’d left his little brother behind and that thought brought up bad memories. He pushed the thoughts away and continued to lay across the bed until his eyes finally shut in exhaustion.

‡

He woke up a few hours later. His whole body was stiff with sleep. At first, he was confused as to where he was, until the recent events came back to him. He wasn’t in the Academy anymore. By his own doing.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the bed and grabbed his bag. There was no point in staying in the building any longer than he needed to. He had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that someone would find him there, and he didn’t want to be a part of that.

Danny wasn’t sure if he was relieved that the streets were empty or not. If they were empty, it just meant that someone was lurking in the shadows, and that didn’t make him feel any better. He pulled his bag closer to him as he wandered down the streets.

The first item on his to-do list was ‘find food’. He wasn’t necessarily hungry yet, but he knew he’d be feeling it at some point. He hadn’t been on his own for nearly three years, but that didn’t mean he didn’t remember. He’d only spent two days on his own the first time he’d been alone. It hadn’t been long. But it was enough time for him to realize that he didn’t like living on the streets, to realize that he was terrified out of his mind, and to realize that there had to be a way to fix it.

Danny kept his wary gaze on the horizon ahead of him. He couldn’t bear to see the city the way it was. Only a few short years ago it had looked absolutely beautiful to him. Buildings had stood tall and elegant against the sky. Now, not so much. Now, they were all mostly destroyed and sad looking. Only a few buildings remained in good condition: the Academy, the Philadelphia International Airport, and random buildings throughout the city that the muggers kept up. It made his heart ache painfully.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when he finally found food, and he didn’t really care either. All that he cared for was the fact that he actually found food. He knew that it wouldn’t always be this easy. He knew he wanted to get somewhere safe before it got too hard. Winter was coming to a close, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be cold. _That_ was something he knew all too well.

It wasn’t long before he found somewhere else to spend a few hours sleeping. Just before he drifted off into sleep, he felt as if someone was watching him. But he couldn’t pull himself out of the death-like grip that the sleep had on him.

‡

“Mark?” a dark haired girl asked as she pushed her way past the front door of the tiny farmhouse. When there was no reply, she took several steps into the living room and stopped, her eyes flickering around the room in an attempt to try to find Ruby or Mark. “Mark?” she inquired again, her voice a little louder this time.

After spending only two weeks in the fields with Mark’s ‘workers’, she’d had enough. Brandon had never told her what exactly they did out in the fields. She’d had her suspicions, but she’d never realized that it was _this_ bad. As much as she didn’t like it, there wasn’t much she could do without somehow taking Brandon’s power away, and right now wasn’t the best time for that, no matter how annoyed she was with her father at the moment.

“What do you want girl?” came the gruff, slightly annoyed voice of a man from another room in the tiny house. She licked her lips nervously. “Just because your daddy sent you out here don’t make you special,” he said roughly.

She rolled her eyes. Mark felt the need to remind her every day that she wasn’t special when she already knew it. “That’s not what I came about,” she said, her voice strangely steady for how nervous she was. “I came here to remind you that you can’t keep treating these people the way you are. You’re killing them. I didn’t know there was killing going on out here until now and I want it to _stop_ ,” she demanded, her tawny-yellow eyes gleaming harshly in frustration. None of this was about her. It was the people around her that she cared about. They were treated terribly and she was being singled out just because her father terrified Mark. She wasn’t going to stand for it anymore.

The farmer came around the corner of the hallway with an amused look dancing across his face. “Darlin’ did your daddy ever tell you about getting paid?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow in laughter, though the rest of his expression as far from amusement.

Her eyes darkened, her mouth a flat, straight line. “Yes,” she growled, her jaw clenched in anger. “Why do you think I’m here? Because he _wanted_ me to come out here?” she demanded with a scoff. “If that’s what you think then maybe he was right about all of you out here. You’re all idiots. All you do is work for the money and it doesn’t matter what you have to do to get the money.”

Mark seemed lost at words for a moment. “Ashlin,” he started, looking absolutely furious, but his voice was calm, the kind of calm that meant a hurricane was following in its wake. “Your daddy ain’t nothing but a stupid little boy, playing soldier because he thinks he can save the damn country. Lemme tell you something right now. _It ain’t happening_.”

‡

“Is he alright?” someone inquired worriedly over Danny.

He was conscious—barely. He could hear, but his eyes felt like they had been stitched shut. There was someone hovering at his side from the direction the voice had come from. And obviously, since the person had questioned whether he was all right, there was someone else there as well.

“I don’t know, Cherri,” the other person, a man, said. He was further away, his words sounding a little more distant to Danny. There was doubt clearly ringing through his voice.

Danny felt a surge of fear course through him. He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten here in the first place, but that was beside the point. He was in immense pain, and he wasn’t even sure why. He wanted to sit up, or at least speak to reassure them that he was all right, except he couldn’t even do that.

Cherry, or whatever her name was, ran her fingers along his arm making him tense up in pain and confusion. Before he’d been taken wherever he was now, he’d been wearing his hoodie; she had just touched his _bare_ arm. Where were his clothes now? The thought of it seemed to wake him up further. He painfully forced his eyes open, feeling as if he were ripping his eyelids apart. Cherri stood beside him looking quite surprised. She was downright gorgeous…but Danny also could barely tell if he was seeing smells and tasting colors or not.

She stood frozen in her spot until she finally registered what had happened and then pulled away from him as if he were a venomous snake ready to strike. “I—Uh, Darian,” she said in alarm as she looked over her shoulder for only a moment. Her alarmed gaze fell back on Danny. “Darian, he’s awake,” she stammered, nervously staring at him.

Danny didn’t understand what was making her so nervous about him. He knew he wasn’t _that_ bad looking, so that definitely couldn’t be it. He tried to turn his head to the side to get a better view of Cherri and Darian, wherever he was, but stopped when he realized that it put him in more pain to do so.

The other person, Darian, walked up beside him, his dark eyes peering over him curiously, which didn’t make Danny feel any better. “How are you feeling?” he inquired with raised eyebrows, as he rounded the table, his eyes never leaving him. He had some sort of an accent, but Danny couldn’t place it.

The words came to mind before they came to his lips. “Pain,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut when his head began to throb painfully, making him want to curl up into a ball. Of course, he couldn’t do that since he was strapped down to the table for some reason. He wasn’t sure what had even caused the pain, especially since he usually held a very high tolerance to pain.

Danny assumed that Darian nodded from the tone of his voice. “Yes,” he started, “you would feel quite the pain,” he said. “Someone hit you in the head with a metal bar,” he explained. Had he been free of the straps keeping him locked in position on the table, he would have cringed. “They were afraid that you were dead since you lost so much blood from the wound, though you were only unconscious. The Academy handed you over to us.”

 _Someone wants to kill me_? Danny thought to himself, throwing his thoughts back to the people who might want to kill him. He couldn’t find a single person who would want to. “I—I don’t understand,” he stammered, keeping his green eyes tightly shut.

There was a dead silence that Danny didn’t like much. “You could have been killed,” Cherri said, her voice soft and almost inaudible. “We don’t know who it was that got to you. We’re not sure how you’re still alive… You lost so much blood.”

“Anything else?” Danny asked, hearing the sarcasm dripping from his voice though he hadn’t intended it to come out like that. He wasn’t sure why he had even asked in the first place. He didn’t really want to know what was wrong with him. It wasn’t going to make him feel any better.

He forced his eyes open again and focused his gaze the best he could on Darian, who stood closer. Darian paused his pacing and turned back toward him with his dark hair pushed sloppily behind his ears. “No,” he said, his voice steady and clear. If he was hiding something, he did it well. “We can’t tell if there’ll be any complications yet, though your head might hurt for some time. And it’s possible that your sight could…” he trailed off as he scratched at his head, as if he were looking for the right words, “possibly go.”

“Oh,” Danny muttered as his eyes snapped shut again. Is that what it felt like to be blind? To see darkness? Or was it light? He prayed that he wouldn’t find out; he certainly didn’t want to know. He wasn’t sure if _anyone_ wanted to for that matter.

Danny heard feet shuffle across the cement floor toward him. It was Cherri. “Don’t worry,” she murmured, her voice calm and soothing. “We’re keeping tabs on your conditions,” she said, and he could almost feel her smile. “Nothing has gone wrong,” she promised. She fell silent for a few moments, but he knew she was still standing there. “As soon as you’re able to walk again, you’ll have to leave,” she added, almost a little bitterly.

If he’d had the strength he would have frowned, but he didn’t. “Okay,” Danny muttered, feeling a little disappointed and annoyed. He swallowed painfully and fought off a yawn that threatened to open his mouth and breathe in deeply. He was almost certain that it would cause him more pain than less. “Where are my clothes?” he inquired as he blinked his eyes open. His eyes flickered between Cherri and Darian slowly. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ have clothes. It was the fact that his favorite hoodie that reminded him of his family was gone.

“Your jacket was drenched in blood, I doubt you wanted to lay around in it,” Darian said, with a little humor in his voice, but his words were grim. He had definitely lost quite a bit of blood. “I found some clothes lying around and put them on when you got here. I didn’t want a half-naked teenager lying around. Unconscious or not,” he muttered rolling his eyes. “You need to rest,” he said as he turned his back to Danny. “The faster you heal, the better.”

Cherri nodded in agreement, but said nothing else before she walked out of the room looking a little upset with her beautiful blonde curls bouncing against the hood of her jacket as she went. Darian muttered something Danny didn’t catch before he started after her. “You watch yourself,” he warned him before he disappeared around the doorframe of the room, leaving Danny by himself.

Only a short time later, Danny found himself closing his eyes in exhaustion.

_“Danny,” he heard someone whisper behind him. The voice alone made him not want to turn. But he did anyway. Danny turned to see his mother standing in the doorway, staring at him in desperation, “Get out,” she whispered before he saw someone dressed in all black gear drag her away._

_Danny stood rooted to the spot in terror. He wanted to go after his mother. He_ knew _he should go after her, but for whatever reason he couldn’t make himself do it. And then he heard a scream and bolted. He didn’t know whether it was his mother or not, but he didn’t want to find out. And he wouldn’t. He ran. And he ran. He couldn’t watch her die. Not again._

_“Daniel!” a tiny voice behind him shouted from behind him. He recognized the name with a pang; it was Hunter, his little brother. Danny didn’t stop running though “Danny! Wait for me!” the voice yelled, already sounding distant to him as Danny continued to run, his legs not allowing him to stop. He didn’t even turn back._

“Daniel.”

Danny threw himself out of his dream to find Cherri holding onto his arm with a terrified look plastered to her face. “Were you dreaming?” she inquired, her honey-golden eyes searching for lies in his expression.

His voice caught in his throat, but finally he managed to croak, “Yes.” He didn’t mention that it was nightmares, and he was thankful that she didn’t ask either. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to repeat the dream even to someone he had known forever. With some difficulty, he pulled his arm away from her after the realization that his arms were no longer strapped down to the table. Cherri seemed just as surprised as him.

She took a step away from him and brushed a strand of her hair away from her eyes. “Don’t move,” she said, her eyes watching him carefully as if she already knew he wasn’t going to listen. “You’re in pain, you just might not feel it because of the painkillers,” she said, but her words floated over Danny’s head.

Danny forced himself to sit up, and by the time he was up he felt like he was going to be sick. The pain was immense—which lead him to believe that the painkillers weren’t working as great as Cherri thought they would—but he continued to sit there. He was _not_ going to lie back down. She reached out to try to push him back down to which he lifted his arm to fend her off. She took another step away from him, staring at him disapprovingly. “No,” he muttered blinking his eyes as he tried to force them to adjust to the terrible lighting of the room, and had hardly any luck. “If I’m going to get better, I’m going to have to move,” he said as he swung his legs over the side of the table, ignoring the fact that he didn’t know how he had even gotten loose from the straps that kept him there while he slept. It was painful, but he did the best he could to keep from letting Cherri know he was hurt.

He wasn’t sure it worked very well though. She looked almost as if she was going to cry. “Daniel—”

“Just call me Danny,” he muttered. He hated being called Daniel. The name annoyed him more than being called Dan, a close second.

“—if Darian sees you walking, he’ll send you away,” she said. She sounded desperate, making him wonder what she didn’t want Darian to do. If sending him away scared her that much, it must not have been good, but that seemed to go through one ear and out the other. “Please, Daniel,” she begged, ignoring the fact that he had just asked her to call him Danny and _not_ Daniel. She looked like she was fighting with herself about something, but Danny couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

For whatever reason, he decided not to listen to her. He didn’t want to lie back down. “Cherri, if I don’t move, I’m not going to get better,” he said forcefully, every word like a knife through his chest. The pain made him feel faint and sick, but he had to say it that way. He didn’t want to be stuck there forever. Wherever ‘there’ was.

“If you _do_ move, you’ll be dead,” she said biting her lip nervously. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Please,” she repeated pleadingly. “I don’t want to see another person hurt,” she said quietly, her honey-golden eyes fixed on her feet now.

That finally seemed to grasp his attention. “Hurt? _Dead?_ ” he said, his forest green eyes widening. He wasn’t even sure why he was surprised. Even if he had been in the best parts of Philadelphia, there still would have been a great chance of him being jumped. He knew that the city wasn’t the safest place to live, but he couldn’t exactly leave either.

Cherri dipped her head in a half-nod, her eyes now locked with his. “Yes,” she said quietly. “You don’t know what happens to the people they send here, do you?” she inquired. She sounded frightened, if not a little surprised, that he didn’t know what happened. She took his stunned silence as a no. “They send you out as slaves,” she whispered.

Danny stared back at her, his green irises almost completely swallowed up by his pupils in shock. He reminded himself to breathe after a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” she said in her soft voice. The apology was genuine, he could tell. There was enough fear in her eyes, as if she’d seen many people come through and that they didn’t come back, that they didn’t get out. “I tried to get him to send you to a real hospital,” she said, shoulders drooping in defeat, making herself look even smaller than she already was. “But Darian wouldn’t have it.”

“I—I’ll leave then,” he stammered. He didn’t want to be a slave. He couldn’t live like that. He couldn’t even live outside of the Academy without being attacked.

Cherri shook her head. “You can’t.”

He almost wasn’t surprised. He thought that she might say that, but it didn’t stop him. “I’ll do it anyway,” he said, he was about to push himself off the table when Darian walked in the room behind Cherri. Cherri had obviously realized that he’d entered the room since she looked like she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide anywhere out of sight.

“I see that you’re feeling better,” Darian said with raised eyebrows as his eyes lingered on him for a short moment. He didn’t seem to notice Cherri. Danny decided he was ignoring her. He walked toward him, eyes locked on him as he came closer. “You don’t _look_ like you’re feeling better. What are you doing up?” he asked furrowing his eyebrows.

He should have been asking himself that same question and he knew it. _Why_ was _he up_? “I… I… Um…” he stammered, never managing to actually say anything before Darian sighed. He pulled something from behind his back and rammed it into his head. Danny never saw what it was. All he remembered was Cherri screaming at Darian as his vision faded into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse hated his not-so-home-like home. From day one, he’d hated it. It had never felt like a home to him. In the three years he and his brother Will had been living there, he’d never once had an urge to stay there willingly. But it wasn’t will that kept him there, it was fear.

He was aware that today was supposed to be the day that he and Will were supposed to go up to the base, but he didn’t want to put himself in an awkward position. It had been seven years since he’d shown his face at the base, and it had been for a pretty decent reason. The last three years had made it nearly impossible to want to risk their safety. The seven years that had been put between the Murray boys and Ashlin was too much of a harsh memory for him.

 “Jesse?” Will called from the living room, “are you sure you don’t want to come to the base with me?” He was probably busy with his suit that he insisted on wearing for whatever reason. Jesse despised it with all of himself, and didn’t understand why Will even tried. Nobody was going to be impressed with formal wear at the base. His brother had been asking him for weeks to go to the base with him. It was starting to get on his nerves.

“There’s never anything interesting there,” Jesse called back as he rolled over in his not-so-comfortable chair, dusty blonde hair falling over his eyes. “Unless you’re making something interesting happen, why bother?” he muttered rolling his eyes. He didn’t say it loud enough for Will to hear him, knowing that his brother would be upset with his words.

Will tried so hard to make Jesse go to the base—so hard that Jesse _almost_ felt bad—to bring him closer to their old life, but things never seemed to go right. They never ended up going to the base. He had his doubts that Ashlin was even going to _want_ to be friends with him after not seeing her for six, almost seven years, especially when his family had left right after her mother’s death. He _wanted_ to go, but he didn’t want to be the one to cause problems.

Will popped his head around the doorframe of Jesse’s small bedroom. “If you say so,” he sighed. The older Murray boy was dressed in a dark suit with his dark hair brushed off to the side making his fair skin seem even paler than it already was. He looked like a businessman to Jesse, which was both annoying and endearing in a way. It reminded him a little of his father, Riley. “Now I’ve just got to hope that they show up this time…” Will trailed off as he looked out of Jesse’s window expectantly.

Jesse nodded as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his cushioned chair. He understood Will’s reservations. The general could have made more of an attempt to contact them to make sure that they were actually going. But this was Brandon, and Brandon did what he did best. Be difficult. “What do you think he’ll say?” he inquired looking up at Will through strands of his dusty hair, stifling a yawn. This wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to have, but Will was forcing it.

Will shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at Jesse. “Probably something about us not being there in a long time,” he suggested. “He’s not much for words,” he mumbled looking away again.

Jesse snorted, screwing up his face in irritation. “Yeah, right,” he muttered venomously, his blue eyes sparking in annoyance. “That man has a mind of his own—”

“—as most people do,” Will interjected with a sigh. Will knew how much Jesse disliked Brandon, but he never seemed to encourage it. “If he says something about not being there in a while, I’ll just tell him things came up.” It wasn’t a lie. Brandon knew what had gone on. Will cracked his knuckles nervously as he looked over his shoulder again and then back in Jesse’s direction. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” he inquired again, his blue eyes fixed on him intently. “You don’t have to be around Brandon and Ashlin if you don’t want to. Nobody’s forcing you.”

“Well,” Jesse started as he swung his legs over the side of his chair with the start of a scowl spreading across his face, “it seems to me that you’re trying to force me to go.” Jesse tried to sound gentle, as if he didn’t mind, though he was thoroughly annoyed. Obviously he didn’t want to go to the base, so why was Will so insistent on him going? “There’s never anything to do up there. I would rather stay here and go out with the horses or something.”

Will sighed irritably and bit his lip. “I know… I’m just nervous, I guess,” he murmured, his eyes now focused on the ground. Will wasn’t the kind of person to admit to being nervous. And it definitely wasn’t something he would admit to his younger brother.

“You’ll be fine,” Jesse promised resisting the urge to snap at Will. What was so terrifying about the base? They’d gone there for years and years and been perfectly fine. The worst that could happen would be Brandon sending him back, and that was highly unlike Brandon—except that he didn’t know what was and wasn’t like Brandon anymore. He hadn’t seen him since the accident when he was twelve. “And if you can’t deal with him, you can just come back.”

Will clenched his fist nervously at his side. “And if he doesn’t let me leave?”

Jesse looked at him skeptically and said, “Run.”

‡

Jesse could have sworn Will had called for him, but when he went to check on his older brother he had only looked at him in confusion. He put it off as getting lost in his memories again.

Nobody came to pick Will up, not surprisingly enough. Jesse figured that they wouldn’t come this year. The Murray boys hadn’t gone there in over seven years. Why would it change now?

“I’m going out with the horses,” Jesse called over his shoulder before disappearing outside the front door of their small home without waiting for a reply from Will.

The stables were small, a lot smaller than the stables they used to own when they had their ranch when they were younger. It was all they could afford now with the little money that their parents had left them and the small sum Will pulled in with the work he did. When he had been younger, he used to sleep in the stables, claiming that he was keeping the horses company. Now, Jesse would never be able to do it without Will having a heart attack. He couldn’t afford to lose his brother now.

Pepper—his black Warlander—was impatiently waiting for him by his stall door. Pepper wasn’t the most patient horse, but he was Jesse’s favorite. Pepper was his friend, one of the few that he could claim that he had kept over the years. The stallion was stamping and whinnying at him as he pulled his saddle off the hanger hanging on the wall. The horse did not like his saddle. Or his bridle. Or anything in general that led to Jesse putting something on his back, in his mouth, or around his head. But he had to put it on Pepper. Riding bareback wasn’t an option since he was extremely unpredictable, and took joy in throwing off anyone when he got the chance and then pranced around proudly about it afterward. Even if he was Jesse’s favorite horse, he didn’t push his luck. He’d seen Will thrown off his own horse, Charlie, several times, and though it had been a while since then, he didn’t want to ride any of the horses without their gear on them and risk being bucked off and hurt.

“C’mon, Pepper,” Jesse murmured as the horse stamped his hoof down in front of Jesse and took a stubborn step back, his dark brown eyes taunting. “How many times have I done this? How many times have you lived? Every time.” Pepper huffed at him and shook his mane out before pawing at the ground again, which was his own way of saying, ‘No way in hell are you putting that thing on me.’ “I’ll give you oats afterwards,” Jesse offered with a smile. The Warlander stared at him blankly, probably coming up with ways to throw Jesse off his back later.

Jesse took a step forward to try to saddle him. Pepper skittered off to the side. “Oh, come on,” Jesse sighed, his shoulders sagging. _No oats for you_ , he thought silently to himself with a laugh. “It’s not hard, Pepper.” Pepper snorted at him and stamped his hoof down again. Another ‘No,’ from the Warlander. Jesse sighed again. “Fine,” he said setting the saddle on the ground beside him. He put his hands up to show him that he had nothing else in his hands and slowly walked toward Pepper with his hand outstretched for Pepper to sniff. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Peps,” he promised trying to sound as friendly as he could.

Pepper watched Jesse cautiously before finally deciding to rush past Jesse, away from his stall. “Pepper!” Jesse gasped rolling his ocean blue eyes as he chased the horse out of the stable. Pepper nickered and raced out of the stable. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Jesse walked out of the stable feeling annoyed and slightly entertained. Pepper, on the other hand, was proudly prancing around the inside of his pen. There was no doubt that the Warlander was happy. He noticed Jesse, but made no attempt to come near him. Sometimes Jesse wished he had a better-behaved horse. But Pepper was Pepper, and he loved him for it. The horse might have been a pain, but he at least gave Jesse a decent sense of relief.

“Pepper!” Jesse called again. The dark haired horse came to a halting stop only inches away from Jesse after rounding his grassy pen one last time. He snorted in Jesse’s face and neighed proudly before nudging him with his muzzle to show that he had surrendered. For now. “Thank you,” Jesse sighed as he ran his hand down Pepper’s muzzle with a small smile.

‡

Danny woke up with a throbbing headache and in a very pissed off mood. The last thing he remembered before he’d gone unconscious was Darian swinging something at his head…for which both the headache and the mood was from. He was somewhere else though. He was _possibly_ still in the same building, but not in the room he’d been in before. He figured that maybe they’d decided that he was too much of a problem and locked him away.

“Hello?” Danny called out looking around the unfamiliar room curiously, as he brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “Anyone there?” he asked as he pushed himself off his makeshift bed. He waited for a reply and got nothing. “All right, I guess not then,” he snorted as he shuffled toward the door. He made no attempt to open it since he already decided that it was locked, but he thought he could possibly hear something.

Something turned out to be absolutely nothing. He sighed and slid his back against the door in frustration. He didn’t understand what he was even doing here in the first place. He hadn’t done anything—that he was aware of—that would put him in this situation. Someone else obviously had thought it was a cool idea. Danny was not a fan of it.

He sat there impatiently for at least ten minutes before he heard something other than his own breaths. Somewhere on the other side of the door, he heard another door open and shut loudly as if it was heavy. Danny scrambled back to his terribly uncomfortable bed as quickly as his legs would allow him. The person—whoever it was—would probably be unhappy to find him squished behind the door.

“Daniel, are you awake in there?”

Danny sighed in relief with his whole body pressed against his bed. It was Cherri. “There’s always the possibility that I could be dead,” Danny said jokingly, inwardly swearing at the painful throbbing in his head.

She didn’t laugh. She pushed open the door with a scowl. “That’s not funny,” she scolded.

Danny shrugged unmindfully as he watched her cross the room. “Sorry. I’ve been kidnapped. Am I supposed to react some other way?” he inquired gazing at her with curious green eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m still here,” he sighed, closing his eyes, which surprisingly helped his headache a little.

“I told Darian that sending you out all beat up was going to get him bad rep. I wasn’t lying. It will. But I also wanted to make sure that you were all right. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a concussion by this point for as many times as you’ve been hit in the head.” He heard her sigh as she continued to make her way toward him. “You’re going to get hurt out there,” she said worriedly.

“I assumed,” Danny said, letting a certain amount of sarcasm seep into his words. “I mean, I’m being shipped out as a slave. No pay, probably terrible owners, and no better food,” he said, blinking his green eyes open to see her standing at the side of his bed. “You really aren’t telling me anything I don’t know.”

Cherri looked annoyed. “I was just trying to help you. You can definitely use it. If you go out like that,” she muttered gesturing toward all of him—in which he looked at her in disbelief and minor annoyance—, “you’ll be slaughtered. There aren’t many people out there in shape. The ones that aren’t, are picked off quickly.”

He stared at her with an open mouth for a moment before finally taking in what she had said. “Are you suggesting that I’m not in shape?”

“With everything that you’ll be doing out there?” Cherri said, ignoring the sharpness in his tone. “You’re nowhere near in shape.”

‡

Hunter sat with his back against one of the sides of his cage with a bar digging into his back as he thought over everything that John had last said to him. It annoyed him that he was stuck in the cage again, especially since John had seemed so interested in him.

Nobody visited his cage since the day that Baker had dragged him down to see John. No new food. No new water. It wouldn’t have bothered him so much if the water were at least fresh when it was brought to him. But that apparently wasn’t acceptable here. Instead, it drove him insane from the lack of somewhat edible food, and drinkable water. He didn’t understand how they expected any of the people to keep living here if they didn’t have sustainable food. They left them completely helpless. He hoped that one day they would realize just how hard it could be to live without those kinds of things. He wasn’t sure if they would care though.

“You know,” said the familiar, and somewhat annoying voice of John, “if you just asked, I could get you out of here… You could be safe away from this place.”

Hunter scoffed, his green eyes darting in the direction of John’s voice. “It’s not fair to the rest of these people,” he muttered, “You’re singling me out.” Hunter wasn’t sure what the point of this even was. He didn’t want to be singled out. He wanted everyone here to be free as well.

He heard John sigh in mild irritation, and then there were several clicks of the heels of John’s shoes against the concrete floor and then silence. He stood in front of Hunter’s cage, his hands tucked in his pockets like the last time he’d seen him. “Hunter,” he said as he crouched in front of the cage, his hands placed lightly on his knees to keep him balanced, “I know you’re upset. I know you’re mad about Daniel, James and Anna. I know how it feels. Trust me. But if you don’t snap out of it, you’re going to end up just like them. Dead. Stop worrying about others for once and help yourself.”

Hunter met John’s steady gaze, his green eyes burning at the mention of his parents’ names. “Why does it matter to you? I’m nothing to you,” he said. He was certain that he wouldn’t like what he was going to find if John let him out of the cage. John would probably make him do more of his own dirty work, and that was something Hunter could definitely live without.

The man took a deep breath, his impatience rising. “My brother and his wife are dead, your parents, _my friends_ , are dead. There are four orphan boys running around because they wouldn’t listen to me.” John pursed his lips at that. “ _I_ tried to help, but I couldn’t get it through their heads.”

He stared at John, half in anger, half in surprise. “They’re all dead because you wouldn’t just move them yourself?” Hunter ground his teeth together as he forced himself to look away from John. “You killed them. You’re a murderer.”

John looked away from Hunter, his grey eyes gleaming in disappointment in the little lighting the warehouse offered. “No. They wouldn’t leave. I tried to get them to leave, but they wouldn’t listen… If I had known that they were still there…” he trailed off with the shake of his head. “Had I known, I would have waited for them to get out.”

Hunter didn’t look convinced. “What about your family?” he asked pointedly.

“They got in the way of someone else. I would never hurt them. I couldn’t do that. Ever. They had two boys. They meant the world to me. I remember the call when they said Riley and Emilie were dead.” John looked mildly upset as he sighed with his eyes closed. “I’m trying to fix things that shouldn’t have happened.”

 _Things that you caused in the first place_ , Hunter thought grudgingly. “Who were you trying to kill?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” John said, blinking his eyes in confusion, caught off guard by Hunter’s question.

“Who were you trying to kill when your brother was killed?” Hunter repeated.

John still seemed confused by the question, but answered with a steady voice, “General Brandon Stillwater.”

‡

Danny glared at Cherri accusingly. “I am not out of shape,” he huffed with a hurt glance at his arms and stomach. “I can lift a hundred-sixty pounds without a problem.”

Cherri rolled her eyes. “Lifting isn’t the only thing you’ll be doing. You have to be able to live on very little food and water and _still_ be able to work without a problem,” she said. “I don’t know how long Darian is going to keep you here, but you have to be ready to do that. If you’re not, you will die.”

“Thanks for being optimistic,” Danny grumbled. “Why can’t you just let me walk out of here?” he said looking up at her, green eyes trained on her awaiting her answer.

“If I let you walk free, Darian will know I did it. And I don’t even want to think about what would happen if he found out that I let someone walk free that was being sent elsewhere,” she said, her voice stern. “So think about that while you lay there. I’d rather you not die out there. It’s not a nice place. The people are not sympathetic, they’re mean.”

He squinted up at her, green eyes glittering in suspicion. “Why does my life matter to you? You don’t know me. I’m just another body,” he said lifting a hand to gnaw on his nails.

“You’re the first person to come through here that hasn’t looked like they were going to die if someone looked at them wrong,” she said agitatedly. “The only reason you’re in the shape you’re in is because you stayed in the Academy. They kept you fed. Most of the people that come through here are people that Darian grabbed off the street. They don’t last long and if he gets in anymore trouble from that, he’s going to be fired.” She swiped at his hand. “Stop biting your nails.”

He looked at her with an open mouth and a scowl. “Excuse you. These are my fingers and my mouth. I control them, not you. Don’t touch,” he muttered, but he put his hand on the bed without further argument. “So, if I’m going to die, why bother trying to warn me about anything? Is there really any purpose for it? I’m still going to die out there, unless you’ve got some _great_ plan that’s going to make me immortal and invincible or something.”

She scoffed and looked away from him as she started to pace across the length of the room. “I don’t see why Darian thought you would be useful,” she muttered. “You’re not making any effort to be helpful. You’re being sarcastic and ridiculous.”

 _Per usual_ , Danny thought as he stifled laughter. “I just don’t see what’s the point of being helpful and making my death come quicker. I like living. Living is nice.”

Cherri muttered something under her breath as she twisted the door handle and pulled on the door. “Don’t be surprised if you wake up elsewhere. I can’t keep Darian from doing what he wants. I was only trying to help you, but you obviously don’t want the help.” She slipped the door and let it close with a slam behind her.

“I don’t like help,” Danny sighed as he flopped on his back against the uncomfortable bed. “And I don’t trust it either,” he muttered closing his eyes.

‡

When he first opened his eyes, he thought that he was possibly just dreaming, but after the fourth pinch on the back of his hand, he finally came to his senses and realized that he was _not_ sleeping. In fact, he had no idea where he even was. It was too dark to see anything, and very, _very_ loud. He was sure the sound was rushing wind, which made him conclude that he was probably falling out of the sky in a box…until he realized how irrational that idea sounded.

In the back of his mind, he swore at Cherri. _She_ was most likely the reason he was probably falling out of the sky in a box. Had she even tried to stop Darian? Probably not. Then again, he hadn’t exactly been the kindest person in the world to her before that had happened. With an irritated sigh, he leaned back against a wall of the box and closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the rushing air around him.

It wasn’t until the sound of screeching brakes sounded around him and the box he was in came to a jerking halt that he realized that he wasn’t falling out of the sky. He was on a train in a car. The wheels squealed to a stop, trying to accommodate the conductor’s command, though that wasn’t working out too well. Danny hit his head against the wall behind him and swore loudly as he reached for the back of his head with a cringe.

For the first few minutes, all he heard was the sound of other car doors being yanked open and the sound of some people yelling and some people crying as they were forced away. Danny wished he could melt into the walls of the car doors more than anything. He assumed this was the place that Cherri had warned him about. He was _not_ prepared to be shipped off into slavery. He wanted to go home to Philly, not to be forced to do things that he could probably die of heatstroke from. He pressed his lips together, closed his eyes, and leaned against the wall waiting for his turn to be yanked out of the train forcefully.

It felt like eons, though it had probably only been a few minutes, before someone finally pulled the car door open with a grunt. The person forced him to his feet, and he made no attempt to resist, not willing to deal with the possible consequences for not complying. With the amount of screams and sobs from the other people being forced off the train, he assumed that they had resisted and been beaten in the process. That was one thing among many Danny was not up for.

As he was led toward the line, he realized that many of the people were in worse condition than he was. Most of them were bleeding from the beating they’d received for resisting, some of them were crying. From what Danny could tell, there hadn’t been many that hadn’t tried to run or at least resist.

“All right!” someone yelled from somewhere down the line of people, his voice loud and menacing. Danny had a slight feeling that he, whoever he was, was the person in charge here. Danny was prepared to have selective listening. “You’ve been shipped off from your sorry families and cities, probably because you’re useless scum! Well, here you won’t be useless. You’ll be put to work in the fields. You will continue to be scum.” He came into view as he paced down the line. Without realizing, Danny was the only one not looking at his feet. “Who are you?” he demanded of a younger boy down the line, making Danny cringe.

The boy instantly broke down in tears before he even managed to stutter his name. Danny bit his lip in sympathy. The man had no right to yell in some kid’s face. “Darling! Take the kid away,” he yelled, making the boy—along with other standing around him—jump. Someone walked around the line hurriedly and ushered the boy away without saying a single word to him.

The man continued to pace down the line, everyone around Danny avoiding his gaze, their eyes locked on the ground in front of them. “You are all about to be chosen to go to a field and work there until you’re put down,” he informed them, strands of his dark hair escaping his beret as he continued to bark at them. “Those who are not taken will be left with me, and if you must know, going to a field with someone is _much_ more desirable.” He smirked, his brown eyes that at one point in his life might have been welcoming, were now like a hellhole, sucking the joy and happiness out of every living creature within a thousand mile radius and replacing it with fear and hatred.

“I wouldn’t advise trying to befriend the other scum you work with. And I would most definitely advise you not to run away from the fields unless you want to die,” he said as he halted near Danny and turned to face them with his hands folded neatly behind his back. Danny wasn’t sure if he meant that they would be killed by the field owners or by the heat.

He stayed where he was while other people began to pace up and down the line, slowly choosing who they would take to the fields with them. At first, Danny worried that he wouldn’t be chosen, that he would have to stay here with Sergeant Rude—Danny’s new name for the man. But finally, he realized that it wouldn’t really matter. Either way, Danny planned to try to run and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to make it far with his head injury from Philadelphia.

Danny was one of the very last people chosen, which was probably because of how bashed up his face looked. He wasn’t entirely sure though, because he was certain he looked better than most of the people here. Sergeant Rude watched him follow the others chosen for his group in the fields as they left. He could feel the man’s brown eyes burning into the back of his skull. Danny wasn’t sure why he was watching him. Maybe he saw that there was something wrong with him. Maybe he planned the stab him in the middle of the night or something. He wasn’t sure, and he said nothing as they walked on.

‡

The man that chose him brought the group back to the fields to show them where they would work the next day without really explaining much. By the time they reached his lot, the sun was hanging low on the horizon, so he agreed to let them have the night off, as they’d be working from tomorrow on out. He walked them to the building where they would sleep. It was a tight space—three beds stacked, fifteen rows, and three in a row with barely a foot between them. Danny was beginning to see how quickly this place would turn into a nightmare.

The farmer didn’t give them food much to most of the others’ dismay, though Danny wasn’t very surprised. He told them that they would have to work to earn the food, and since they hadn’t worked yet, they hadn’t earned even a morsel. Several people objected to that, and he threatened those few that did. With that, they shut their mouths pretty quickly.

The night was not a good one. They were all hungry, all uncomfortable, and they barely knew each other. Danny didn’t know when he fell asleep; all he knew was that he fell asleep hungry, extremely hungry, and agitated.

‡

Ashlin lied in her bed with her face pressed into her pillow uncomfortably when Mark slammed the door open. She turned her head on her pillow and watched as several people filed in behind him quietly. _More slaves_ , she thought with a sigh as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

She silently cursed Mark for doing this. He knew that she hated it, his own _wife_ hated it, and yet he still did it. She knew she couldn’t entirely blame him for it though, since it was Brandon who sold the people off in the first place. Some of the people that entered the squished building were hardly more than fifteen years old. Some of them were too old to be working. They probably wouldn’t make it through the day.

She couldn’t understand how anyone could willingly take people and work them to death without feeling guilty about it. She knew that Mark didn’t feel guilty. The look on his face was more than enough to tell her that.

One of the people near the door stared at Mark in disbelief as he told them that they wouldn’t get any food. _Typical_ , she found herself thinking. It didn’t surprise her that he wouldn’t let them have food. He wanted to break them down first. The first day that she’d arrived at the place he’d reluctantly allowed her to have food, but only because of whom her father was and what he could do if Mark refused. Ashlin hadn’t even wanted the food. It wasn’t fair to the rest of the people who wouldn’t be allowed to eat.

Ashlin rolled onto her back as Mark allowed his new slaves to spread throughout the tiny building. Hardly anyone grouped up with others. Most of them minded their own business. One boy, who Ashlin guessed didn’t realize she was sleeping on the top bunk, sat on the bunk beneath her, and without another word kicked his sneakers off. All she could see of him was the top of his head, which was covered in dark wavy brown hair since it was so dark in the room and he wasn’t giving her any way of actually seeing his face. Not that she minded. The less people she knew the better.

‡

“ _Get up_!” the man, rumoredly named ‘Mark’, yelled standing at the door with a rifle in his right hand. Danny scrambled to his feet, leaving his highly uncomfortable bed unmade behind him. Within moments, he was outside the door. When he was only feet from the door he heard a gunshot from inside and felt the sense of dread overcome him. He wasn’t sure if said ‘Mark’ had shot anyone, but he didn’t intend on finding out either.

More people flowed out of the small building, some looking sleepy, others looking as if they had cried throughout the night. Danny couldn’t blame them. He didn’t want to be there anymore than they did, but he refrained from crying. That was probably because he hated letting people know he wasn’t okay. Not to mention that everything he’d had was gone now. The Academy wasn’t going to allow him to come back, and his family was gone.

Some of the people were slow, stiff from injuries from the night before or earlier. The farmer, Danny had a feeling, was going either to kill them or send them off to Sergeant Rude. In any case, he hoped that he didn’t look as bad as they did.

Once the entire surprising amount of people were lined up outside of the building, Mark paced down the row of people, dark eyes issuing a challenge for any of them to actually meet his gaze. Danny couldn’t even bring himself to look at the man, afraid that he would notice how badly injured he was. Being deathly afraid of guns didn’t help the matter either.

“You,” he said gruffly pointing at Danny with the butt of his rifle, “c’mere,” he continued furrowing his brow as if in deep thought—though Danny suspected it probably wasn’t a very deep thought. He took a deep breath before he stepped away from the line of people and took several careful steps toward Mark. Danny was shorter than him by at least eight or nine inches, but even with the height distance and the foot or two between them, he could still smell his horrible breath. “Turn around,” he said sternly. Danny squinted in hesitation and started to turn around in thorough confusion though he didn’t trust the man.

He hit Danny hard in the back with the butt of the rifle, making him fall to his hands and knees in surprise and pain. Danny reflexively wrapped a hand around his ribcage in an attempt to ease the pain, though it really didn’t do anything. He forced his gaze to the ground below him, thinking that if he tried to make eye contact with the other people around him that Mark would make it worse. The last thing he needed was to get someone else hurt or possibly killed.

As a wave of pain overcame him, he forced his forest green eyes shut, and tried to steady his breaths. Mark kicked him in the stomach and left him to collapse on the ground. Danny coughed painfully as he pressed his arms against his stomach as securely as he could, moaning through the agony as he bit back the taste of blood in his mouth. At this point, he was beginning to wish he’d been killed in the sacking of Philadelphia.

“This,” Mark said as he grabbed Danny by the dark hair atop his head, pulling Danny forcefully to his knees, “is what will happen to you if you defy my orders.” With that, he threw Danny back to the ground. “ _Get to work_!” he yelled as he turned his rifle to them, ready to shoot if someone didn’t leave.

The moment everyone was out of eyesight and earshot, he picked Danny off the ground and shoved the rifle into his arms—to which Danny stared at in frozen astonishment and fear. “I have to make an example somehow,” Mark said with a sigh. Danny almost let himself believe him, except that Cherri had warned him that the people out here were mean and didn’t care.

“I—” Danny started, his eyes still locked on the rifle in his hands. He didn’t understand why Mark had given him the thing in the first place. “What do you want me to do with this thing…Sir?” he asked, noticing the man visibly cringing at the word ‘sir’.

“First off, don’t call me ‘sir’, son. I ain’t an officer or any of that shit,” he muttered as he started to turn away from Danny in the direction of a house a couple hundred yards away. “And never mind the rifle. I want you to follow me. You might be some use in the house. Pretty faces ‘round the house make Ruby happy,” he grumbled. Danny had a feeling that the man rolled his eyes in distaste from the tone he used. Danny stumbled after him painfully, finding it a little hard to walk after the lovely new addition of injuries he’d procured from Mark. “What’s your name, boy?” he asked, tossing the words over his shoulder almost carelessly.

“James,” Danny said almost immediately. If Mark had any suspicions of him lying, he said nothing. He didn’t want to use his real name in fear that it would somehow hurt him if someone ever found a way to use it against him. Danny could think of a few ways that they could use it against him, and none of them pleased him much.

“Well, James,” Mark began as two children started toward them at running paces, his children, Danny assumed, “you’re gonna be cooking and takin’ care of the kids,” he finished. “I’ll be out in the field with the scum all day and the wife’ll need some help around the house,” he added as the children stopped a good ten to fifteen feet away from them. They’d noticed that Mark was bringing a new person to the house. Danny wasn’t so sure he was up for the job. He wasn’t very good with children, and the boy, at the very least, didn’t look like he was going to play friendly with him.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” the older kid, the boy that couldn’t be much older than maybe ten, asked pointing at Danny as he walked closed to him, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

Mark picked the boy up off the ground and swung him around onto his hip turning to face Danny keeping his gaze on his son. “This is James,” he said as he grabbed his son’s finger that was pointed at Danny. “He’s gonna help Momma around the house. You be nice to him, all right?”

Danny figured out then that the kid would be anything but nice to him just by the edgy look he kept giving him. “All right,” he said as Mark set him down in the tall, yellowing grass that seemed to go on for miles. “I’m Nicholas,” he said boldly to Danny as he approached him, his beady blue eyes stared back at him waiting for some unintelligible response.

“Hi, Nicholas,” Danny said attempting to smile, but stopped when his lip burned from the split in the middle of it.

“Your face is messed up,” Nicholas informed him with a mischievous smile. Yep, there it was. No friendliness from this kid. He darted away before Danny had the chance to say anything else. Danny wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be worried about Nicholas or not. He wondered if he was only there for Nicholas to beat up and pick on.

“I’ll be back by sundown,” the man said as he turned back toward the fields. “Don’t mind Nicholas too much, he’s just a pain with the new ones,” he said before he hurried away. That didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.

Danny looked down anxiously at the rifle still in his hand, still unsure of why Mark had even given it to him. The younger kid, a little girl, walked up to him cautiously at first, and then grabbed his hand and started tugging him toward the house. He let her lead him toward the house with an inward smile, almost forgetting about the rifle in his hand.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

‡

“Brandon Stillwater?” Hunter echoed with an air of pure confusion. The name meant absolutely nothing to him. He hoped John didn’t expect him to know what in the world the name meant.

John nodded, grey eyes gleaming brightly despite the dimly lit warehouse. He didn’t seem to notice the confusion resonating off Hunter’s voice. “Yes,” he said glancing over his shoulder as if he’d heard something before turning his stormy gaze back to Hunter. “He’s the general of the military out in Phoenix. He’s who I’m fighting.”

Hunter studied John’s face for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. He was still unsure of who the general was, and as far as he knew, it was _John_ that was hiring mercenaries to do his dirty work. Brandon, if he was who John said he was, was only a general of the military. He couldn’t be too bad, could he? “I don’t understand… What’s there to fight over?” he muttered. He didn’t bother to mention that the fighting was pointless and destroying peoples’ lives. Hunter wasn’t even sure that he would care. John didn’t seem to be listed under the ‘caring’ category.

John’s stormy eyes flashed like lightning in anger before returning to a fixated calm. “He’s killed people I loved,” he muttered as he shifted uncomfortably on his haunches to keep himself balanced. “You might not believe me and you don’t have to either. But there _is_ justice in what I’m doing.”

Hunter nodded, though he eyed John suspiciously. He didn’t believe John was telling him the whole truth, but he wasn’t about to question him, on the grounds of John possibly not being as friendly as he seemed. “Seeing as you’re the reason my parents are dead, I think I know which team I’m rooting for,” he said, allowing bitterness to seep into his words.

His tone made John flinch, but he didn’t turn away. Not yet. “Hunter,” he murmured, his voice pressing, urgent, “please. I can get you out of here. I can send you somewhere safe. Somewhere away from here.”

Hunter shook his head though he wasn’t sure if John could actually see him do so. “I don’t want to be moved out of here if I’m the only one. I’ve been on my own for almost three years now, John. It might be easy for you to make that choice for me, but what you don’t see is all these people surrounding me. And they can’t _touch_ me. If I leave here, I lose that safety. _You_ might think it’s safe, but I don’t think you know what the word safe really means,” Hunter snapped, his forest green eyes lighting up with the resemblance of bonfires.

John stared back at him, his lips parted slightly in surprise. Hunter wasn’t sure if he’d actually managed to upset the man or not, but he hoped he had. There was no way in the world to replace all of his family. As much as he wanted out of the cages, he didn’t feel that it was right for someone to just allow him to walk. He wanted to do it on his own accords. “Please…”

“No.” Hunter turned his face away from John with a sour expression. “I’m not leaving.” _Not by your doing. Not when you’re singling me out like this._

John sighed halfheartedly as he pushed himself to his feet. “Then there is nothing I can do to help you. I’m sorry Hunter.”

‡

He was wrong. So wrong. Nicholas was wreaking holy terror everywhere he went. Danny had a feeling that if he was allowed to, he would try to set the crops ablaze or perhaps just insult it to death. His sister, Daisy, was less of a problem thankfully. She sat around talking to him for the most part, which was a decent getaway with Nicholas’s constant terrorizing.

Danny fell asleep quickly that night, but unfortunately, Nicholas and his father were both there. He dreamed that the both of them were beating him with a rifle with Nicholas laughing the whole time. He woke up covered in cold sweat while shaking anxiously. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to sleep at all while he was here. Or maybe that was the point. To wear them down enough to make them unable to work, and then killing all the incapable slaves off.

He, unlike the rest of the people here, had a better job—better as in he wasn’t roasting in the sun. Danny would’ve liked to think it was because Mark felt sympathetic about beating him up the previous morning, but he was sure it wasn’t. He didn’t like the fact that he was getting better treatment than the rest of the crowd. Everyone else in the tiny building everyone slept in seemed to ignore him because of it. It wasn’t that he cared that they hated him; it was the fact that he hadn’t really had a choice in what he was doing.

Nicholas was ready to begin his reign on terror when Danny returned to the farmhouse the following morning. But thankfully, his mother, Ruby, decided that it was naptime for him, to which Danny was about to drop to his knees and start praying to God, whom he didn’t actually believe in. Daisy happily welcomed him to her table. She’d even offered him some of her breakfast, which Danny declined repeatedly. He had no intentions of coming across as a beggar.

Danny decided soon after that incident that he would help Ruby, as he wasn’t there just to be a nanny. “Is there anything that I can do?” Danny inquired lightly as he walked toward their mother. She was busying herself with the dishes from breakfast that morning. She turned toward him, her face worn and tired. It made him feel bad about having to live out here with the idiots that she was surrounded by.

She sighed in exhaustion. “If you could finish the dishes…” she said. He nodded and took her place as she took a step away from the sink. She, unlike Mark, sounded tired. She didn’t seem to particularly _like_ what her husband was doing, and that made Danny a little hopeful. She was too gentle for a life like this.

After what seemed like hours later, he stepped away from the sink to see Nicholas standing there. Danny was starting to think that the kid would be the end of him. “Hello, James,” he said with the usual beady eyed look he’d been giving him since he met Danny the previous day.

“Hi, Nicholas,” Danny said wishing he could get away from the kid and do something else… Preferably without Nicholas’s involvement. He didn’t need his constant pestering and terrorizing. “What are you up to?” he inquired lightly, trying to sound interested though he wasn’t really interested. Danny wasn’t sure if he _ever_ wanted to know what he was up to.

“Nothing,” Nicholas told him with a giddy, little smile. And then he punched him in the stomach. Hard. If Danny hadn’t doubled over in surprise and pain—because _damn_ that kid could hit hard—he probably would have gone after him. At that point, he wouldn’t have cared what anyone thought of him. Nicholas ran away giggling as if this was some sort of game. Danny didn’t want any part of this game.

Daisy saw what her brother did and stayed where she was for a moment before slowly creeping toward him with a worried and scared expression. Danny was sure that he probably looked menacing, when in reality he felt close to tears. “Sorry,” she mumbled biting her lip, with her crystal blue, worried filled blue eyes locked on the floor. “He’s mean,” she informed him. Danny had the feeling that he wasn’t the only one who had to endure the punching and terrorizing.

Danny managed a feeble smile through the pain. “It’s all right,” he told her, though he definitely agreed with her. Nicholas was mean, and he’d learned it through his father’s actions.

“I’ll get Momma,” she said hurrying away before Danny had the chance to protest. He had to admit that Daisy was sweet, but he didn’t want Ruby to make a fuss over the kid punching him. And he _definitely_ didn’t want to be known as the kid who cried and fired because a ten year old punched him.

By the time Daisy and her mother came back, Danny was standing up with the help of the counter he was leaning against. Between the punch and the kicks in the stomach he’d received the day before, he was beginning to wonder if they had something against stomachs. The look that Ruby had on her face terrified him. It seemed that she thought _Danny_ had punched _Nicholas_. “James,” she started carefully, “you didn’t do anything to him first, did you?” she asked. The amount of suspicion in her voice made him cringe.

Danny shook his head. As if. He avoided Nicholas at all cost. “No, I just turned around and there he was,” Danny said, closing his eyes as a wave of pain overcame him. “I don’t know what I even—”

“I think you should work in the fields for a couple days,” she said. There was fierceness in her voice. “Just to give him time to settle down. You don’t need any more of that,” she said, though they both knew that Nicholas would never settle down.

Danny nodded numbly, his green eyes trying to focus on anything but Daisy or Ruby’s faces. He never thought a kid would drive him out of a house. He’d been wrong.

‡

Ashlin was still unhappy with the treatment Mark had given to the boy the day before. She understood _why_ he did it, but it annoyed her to no bounds. The boy hadn’t done anything to deserve the beating he’d gotten. She knew she could have gotten away with yelling at Mark, but also reminded herself that if she did it, the others might try as well. She had the privilege of not getting hurt, but the others didn’t. She wasn’t willing to put the others’ lives at risk. Not even for the boy.

She was almost unsurprised when the boy ended up in the fields in the next day. Ashlin was pretty sure she knew why he was in the fields in the first place. Nicholas was a terrorist to anyone who wasn’t family; the boy wouldn’t be an exception.

Everyone around them seemed to ignore that the boy had even left the farmhouse. If it weren’t for the fact that Ashlin not wanting Mark to pick on her or the other kid more, she would’ve made an attempt to speak to him since nobody else was going to. She continued to pull crops out of the dusty soil and wipe the sweat away from her brow in annoyance. From a distance, she watched the boy struggle, but made no attempt to help him.

By the time the sun started to set, she could see that he wasn’t in good shape. Whatever had happened to him in the farmhouse and the beating Mark had given him yesterday wasn’t doing any good for him. She almost made an attempt to talk to him before she climbed into her bed, but by the time she was there, he was fast asleep under his covers. Without a word, she climbed into her own bed and drifted off into sleep.

 

Danny lifted his head to the sound of Mark yelling something unintelligible at them before pushing himself out of his bed and following the rest of the people out of the building, not willing to risk his life on the fact that he’d been sleeping. He heard no complaints from anyone else, which made him wonder if Mark had actually threatened them or if they were still half-asleep.

“General Stillwater want some of you scum back for his military,” he said, his dark eyes scanning the line. “I don’t know how scum can be made into soldiers, but I’m following his orders.” He started to pace down the line. With each step he took, a small cloud of dust appeared underfoot. Mark looked murderous. Without warning, he pulled two people from the front of the line. He marched vigorously toward the other end and almost came to a complete stop near Danny for a moment, but didn’t pull anyone. Danny wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. He didn’t want to stay in this hellhole, but he definitely didn’t want to be sent off to the military. Running was out of the question.

Mark pulled a few more people further down the line before turning to them and saying something that Danny didn’t catch and gesturing with the nod of his head toward their small sleeping quarters. As soon as they rounded the corner of the building, Mark raised his rifle to eye level and shot someone standing near him.

Chaos ensued. Someone screamed. Others rushed around him. Danny separated himself from the group, but by that time, Mark had already disappeared.

Danny was beginning to see why Nicholas acted the way he did. Mark shot and hurt people mercilessly. He had to keep himself from looking back at the body. Not because he couldn’t deal with the blood and gore, he could deal with that. It was the fear of knowing that that could have been him that kept him from looking.

The others spent the night burying the person Mark had shot while Danny lied in his bed staring at the bottom of the bed above him unable to sleep for most of the night. The scene kept replaying in his head. Danny wished someone would knock him out.

_The farmer grabbed him by the hair atop his head while Nicholas pointed a rifle at his chest. Danny hung there limply in defeat with his green eyes squeezed shut waiting for it to be over._

_“Danny!” he heard someone yell. He didn’t move, not even bothering to open his eyes. His name was James here, not Danny. The name must have been someone else’s. “Daniel!” he heard the voice call again._

_He opened his eyes to see Cherri standing there behind Nicholas. The other two didn’t seem to notice her there yelling at him. That mystified him. He didn’t understand why she was there in the first place. Nor did he understand why she looked so upset with tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. She yelled something else that he didn’t hear because at that exact moment Nicholas pulled the trigger. His body went limp._

“Quit your moaning,” someone above him grumbled sleepily as Danny felt something jab him in the side painfully. “Your friend wasn’t shot,” she said sharply.

 _I was dreaming_ , Danny reminded himself as he sighed in relief. “My family was shot,” Danny said bluntly before he rolled off the side of his bed and landed on his hands and knees roughly. Danny bit his tongue to keep from swearing from the pain. Any minute now, Mark would come to get them to go out to the fields. Danny wanted to be ready to go out rather than stay an extra minute in the building with Mark and a rifle.

That shut her, whoever she was, up quickly. As far as Danny was concerned, he wasn’t lying. After spending three years in Philadelphia without contact from any of his family, not to mention he’d heard the gunshots go off, he’d assumed they were dead. They weren’t the greatest memories, and they weren’t something he wanted to think about, especially in this place. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. She, like a lot of others, sounded like she was sorry. “I saw the look you were giving Mark yesterday,” she said, hanging over the edge of her bed, her hair almost reaching him even though Danny sat on the floor. Her eyes focus on him for a minute while she tried to balance herself so she wouldn’t fall on the floor, or on him.

“Well, you’re stupid if you don’t want out,” Danny grumbled grumpily as she slipped his sneakers onto his feet, trying to ignore her, though she was making that hard to do.

“Well, you weren’t thinking of being a soldier,” she said thoughtfully. Danny felt like punching her. “You wanted to run.”

“ _Well_ , thank you, Captain _Obvious_. Now will you please _shut up_?” Danny growled snappily. He didn’t bother to look at her, but he instantly felt bad for what he’d said.

“Fine,” she said stiffly. She pulled herself back into her bed and fell silent for a few moments. “What’s your name?” she asked hanging down from her bed again with an annoying smile on her fair-skinned face.

 _Oh, God, here we go again_ , Danny thought to himself resisting the urge to sigh. “James,” he told her staring intensely at his foot as he started to tie his shoe.

“Liar.”

 _Really?_ Danny huffed to himself as he started on the other shoe. “No, my name is James,” Danny told her, resisting the urge to snap at her again. He wasn’t going to give away his real name here. There were plenty of ways to use his name against him, especially if the person were smart enough… And she seemed to be smart enough.

“I think it should be Liar because that’s what you are,” she said, struggling to keep herself from falling off her bed, though she seemed mildly entertained. She laughed despite her struggles. Danny still really wanted to punch her.

“My name is James,” he said as calmly as he could.

“Okay, okay. James. Fine,” she said seemingly giving up. Finally, she got down from her bed and stood in front of him with one eyebrow raised. “Okay, Liar, so where are you from?” she inquired with a huge grin spread across her face.

Danny had never fought such an urge to punch someone before. “Not here,” Danny said through gritted teeth as he finished tying his left shoe. The last thing he needed—or wanted—was a stalker.

“Well, no _duh_ ,” she said rolling her tawny colored eyes. They were an odd color, he noted, but he did have to admit, they were kind of pretty. “Where though?” she asked again with her head tilted to the side a little bit, her dark hair falling around her face.

“Not here,” Danny repeated as he stood up. He was taller than she was by a few inches—she might have been five foot three at the very most. “Why does it matter?” he grumbled. He didn’t think it mattered. In fact, he thought she was being very annoying and he wasn’t sure why she was bothering him in the first place.

“I was just wondering,” she said furrowing her eyebrows in deep thought, or perhaps in an attempt to keep herself from laughing, “if they had any other people named Liar there too.” She started to laugh again. If it weren’t for the fact that he was tired and that he didn’t hit people, he probably would have hit her by now.

Danny rolled his eyes and heaved another sigh. “I’m not a liar,” he started.

“Oh? Then what are you? Not entirely honest?” She raised a curious eyebrow at him again.

He balled one hand into a fist at his side, and managed to keep it there. She was really trying his patience now. “My name is D—James—”

“D—James? What kind of name is that?” she asked, grinning, her teeth shining in the gloomy room. “Is your real name Diane? Is that why you go by James?” she inquired. Danny knew she was joking, but she wasn’t helping her case. “No wonder. That’s embarrassing.”

Danny sighed inwardly as he closed his eyes to try to calm himself down before he swung at her. “No,” he grumbled quietly, “My name is James.”

“Stop arguing!” someone called from the other end of the row in irritation. “Some people enjoy sleep when they can actually get it,” they said, spitting the words out like venom.

“Ya’ll don’t need sleep.” Mark was at the door, rifle in hand. How he had entered so quietly was beyond Danny. “What ya’ll need to do is work harder ‘cause I got seven less people working out there.” The bunker fell silent. “Well? _Get up!”_ he snapped.


	3. Chapter 3

Nicholas was in the fields with them that afternoon. Danny silently swore that his father _wanted_ him to terrorize every and anything he saw. No wonder Nicholas treated everyone the way he did. He saw his father do it, and if _he_ did it, it must have been okay.

It was most definitely _not_ okay.

“Hiya, James,” he said as he walked up behind him with his hands held behind his back and a sweet smile that Danny decided was far from real. He was beginning to wonder why God had given him the fate of being stalked and beaten by a ten-year-old boy. “Having fun digging stuff up?” he grinned, the sweet smile long gone. Danny was certain that he was a demon or something.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Danny grumbled as he continued to dig roots out of the ground. He wasn’t about to offer Nicholas so much as a glance.

“’Cause scum don’t have fun.”

“Then I guess I’m not scum,” Danny suggested, almost inaudibly.

He thought Nicholas didn’t hear him, but he was wrong. He started to kick him in the ribs. Hard. And repeatedly. Danny curled into a protective ball on the dusty ground, but that didn’t seem to stop the boy. “Oh, you _are_ scum,” he said in joy, continuing to kick him in the ribs. Pain filled his already shattered ribs before Mark finally said something to Nicholas.

“Leave the boy be, Nick,” he called. And besides that, he did nothing. He didn’t come to see if Danny was all right or possibly dead or anything. Nicholas grinned down at Danny and then ran away, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

“Beat up by a kid, huh?” the girl who had called him Liar earlier asked. She stood beside him, towering over him while Danny laid on the ground, winded. _Not her again,_ he thought hopelessly. “Here,” she said holding a hand out for him to take.

He didn’t really want to take her hand, but he was beginning to get the feeling that nobody else was going to help him and if he didn’t get up, he risked being shot by Mark. He took her hand and let her pull him up none too gently. “Thanks,” Danny muttered trying to ignore the comment about being beat up by a kid.

“Get back to work!” Mark yelled standing up from his tree stump on the outskirts of the field, his rifle in hand.

 _That better be just to scare us_ , Danny thought eyeing it carefully.

“He’s hurt!” she called back, looking toward the farmer.

 _Oh God,_ Danny thought in despair, _she wants to kill me_. “Shut up,” he muttered as he tried to take a deep breath, which didn’t work out too well for him. “He’ll shoot me,” he sputtered as he tried to pull away from her, but she didn’t loosen her grip. If felt like he was handcuffed to her and it wasn’t a fun experience.

“Good, bring him here,” he said as he set his rifle down at the foot of the stump. Danny cringed at his words even without the rifle being a threat anymore. But the girl didn’t seem to notice, she just continued to drag him toward Mark, toward death.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Danny asked struggling to free himself of her grasp. By now, he know that he had caught several of the other peoples’ attention. He didn’t like that very much, but he figured maybe if they saw how ridiculous she was being, they would stop him. He was wrong. Again. The people here had to be pretty heartless if they were just going to allow someone to be shot for no real reason.

“Do you want to get better?” she asked him with raised eyebrows as she continued to drag him toward Mark, who was starting to look impatient.

“If better is being _shot_ , then _no,_ I do not want to get better,” Danny said finally freeing himself from her grip and then collapsing on the ground. That knocked the breath out of him and hurt him more than he had anticipated. He silently reminded himself that this wasn’t the greatest of plans.

She sighed and picked him up again, her grip tighter on him this time. “He won’t shoot you,” she promised. Danny still didn’t believe her, but he let her drag him toward Mark anyway. “He’s hurt,” she repeated when they reached him.

Danny’s breaths were pretty ragged. He wasn’t sure if it was from the pain that kept ripping through his chest every time he breathed or the possible internal bleeding that Nicholas had caused.

“Take him to the truck,” he told her pointing behind him with a thumb and an agitated stare. Mark completely ignored him otherwise. “But if he falls,” he paused to tap his rifle as if it were an old buddy, “I’ll shoot.”

He gulped nervously as he tried to steady himself in the girl’s grip. “Don’t fight this time,” she told him, her golden-yellow eyes focused on him for a short moment before turning in the direction that Mark had pointed in, “because I’m not going to save you next time,” she warned him as she walked with Danny leaning on her for support toward the truck that Mark had spoken about.

It was an old, run down truck. It seemed highly unsafe to him. Danny really didn’t want to get into it, but the girl forced him to anyway—God, she was pushy. He prepared for it to fall apart beneath them.

“My name’s Ashlin,” she said into the steering wheel as she turned the key in the ignition. “Just thought you’d like to know.”

Danny ignored that completely. “Where are you taking me?” he asked. Hopefully it wasn’t a couple miles out to leave him to die. He had his doubts.

“Ahh, to the base. General Stillwater has plenty of medics there.”

Danny felt his shoulders droop. Not _that_ man. He had high suspicions that General Stillwater was the man that had been screeching at them when he’d first gotten there. “He’s going to kill me.”

“No, he won’t,” she sighed as she pressed her foot on the gas pedal. The truck lurched forward, resulting in a mini-heart attack on Danny’s part. “He’s my father.”

Danny stared at her in disbelief. “Wait. You’re not talking about the one guy that scared the poor kid to death, are you?” he asked half in confusion, half in shock. If that was the case, then why was _she_ out here being a slave? Why on Earth would a father send his kid out to be a slave?

“I wasn’t there, but yeah, sounds like him, the one and only,” she said, the whole truck shaking beneath them as they crossed the uneven, sandy-rocky ground. She didn’t sound very pleased about the fact, which almost made Danny feel bad for her. “He didn’t know how to take care of me, so I left.”

“Sounds like a great father,” Danny started, treading carefully on his words. His chest didn’t hurt as much anymore, though the pain wasn’t entirely gone, as he leaned back against the uncomfortably hot leather seat. He still wanted to strangle Nicholas for kicking him, although he knew he would never get that close to him without being beaten to a pulp by Mark at the very least.

“He was,” she told him turning her gaze to him for a brief moment before returning her eyes to the sandy, never-ending landscape in front of them. “Until he decided that the military was more important than I was, that is,” she muttered softly, her gaze softening for a moment. They hit another bump, making Danny reach out to try to keep himself steady. He had a feeling that the truck was going to shudder apart beneath them. “It doesn’t really matter anymore. We didn’t get along very well,” she grumbled.

“Why didn’t you stay and join his military thing that he’s got going on?” Danny inquired quietly after a few minutes of silence besides the truck’s constant creaking. It would have been Danny’s choice if he’d been in her position.

“He wouldn’t let me,” she said, surprising him. She didn’t look like the time to join the military, not that he knew her all that well. “You would be surprised how many times I tried to join,” Ashlin sighed moving her hands along the leather steering wheel. “I cut my hair short when I was eleven and dressed up as a guy. Didn’t work out too well for me. They found me out when I was changing. It wasn’t that great of an experience,” she said with a little bit of amusement in her words.

Danny laughed a little at that, making his chest hurt like burning hell, but he found the idea of her doing so hilarious. Maybe it was because in the past few days he’d had no source of amusement, or possibly because he was losing his mind. He couldn’t decide which. “S-sorry,” he stammered trying to control his laughter by covering his mouth with a hand.

To his surprise, she was laughing as well. “It’s all right,” she said with a smile, forcing her laughter to stop. “Another time I signed myself up and just walked in, of course, about two minutes into training someone realized who I was and my father had me removed immediately. He was so mad at me, but the look on his face was so funny. I was trying not to laugh, but that only made me laugh more because he was so furious with me.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment, not completely allowing herself to get lost in the memories while she was driving. “I tried again a year ago, that time I dyed my hair dark so they wouldn’t notice me as well.” She sounded almost wistful. “Almost got away with it that time,” she said with a shrug. “But I had to talk to my father and he realized who I was and dragged me out. He gave me a choice: stay and listen to him, which meant not trying to join again, or leave.”

Just as she was about to say something else, she stopped the truck. It lurched backwards and then forwards again before she got out and waved a hand at him, a gesture for him to follow. _We must be near_ , he assumed as he climbed out of the shady truck. _Or there’s the possibility that she’ll shoot me,_ Danny added in contrast.

“When we get there, you’re going to have to act like you’re dying or something,” she told him, her tawny eyes falling on him, waiting for him to state his agreement. Danny nodded. “Say nothing about who did that to you, because they’ll automatically discharge you for lying. They don’t like to think they’re bringing up their kids up badly out here.”

Danny looked at her in confusion.

“Self-control and common sense are hard to come by together, and rarely do you ever find them within the same person out here. It seems that I’m the only one out here that has it,” she muttered rolling her eyes. “Sorry,” she sighed for the little rant she’d given.

He shook his head. “It’s all right, I don’t mind,” he murmured. He nearly tripped over a small sand rock—because it had to be one of them, right?—but he recovered from it before she noticed, or if she did notice, she mentioned nothing. “So, they won’t try to recruit me, right?” he asked. As much as he meant it as a joke, he was also serious about it. He wanted out of here so he could go back to Philadelphia, not so he could be recruited under a man who seemed to have little to no temper control.

“Can’t guarantee it,” she said with the shrug of her shoulders. “If they ask, tell them you won’t join unless I’m allowed,” she said, eyes studying him. He wasn’t sure if the plan of hers was a good idea. Her father already seemed…angry… He didn’t want another reason for the man to be even angrier. “And don’t let yourself seem frightened,” she added suddenly, sounding mildly irritated. Danny needed to keep reminding himself that. “They’ll try to scare you.”

“Easier said than done,” Danny grumbled. On the horizon,—which was closing in fast—he could see the train tracks that had taken him there and then the twelve foot tall fence that separated the fields from the base. He had a slight feeling in his gut that it was electrified. Once you got in, you weren’t getting out easily.

“They’re more likely to treat you in the infirmary because they know who I am,” she said. It was an advantage, but she didn’t sound too pleased about it and he understood why. She didn’t want to use herself as leverage. Danny knew that problem all too well. His father had been a politician. “If the general hears that I’m here, he’ll start trying to talk to me, so make sure you don’t say too much.”

Danny was starting to get the feeling that Ashlin and her father didn’t get along very well. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see them together, because if she was anything like her father, there would be a yelling fest. He nodded but said nothing. He was trying to concentrate on breathing correctly, which even though it was still pretty ragged. Danny was really starting to believe that Nicholas had caused internal bleeding. Oh, man, if he ever saw that kid again… He pushed the thought away quickly. He would be shot before he even looked at Nicholas.

“Stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?” Danny asked in confusion as he whirled his body around to face her. He didn’t understand what exactly he was doing that Ashlin was demanding that he stopped doing.

“Thinking,” she sighed. “You’re overthinking. You’re going to do something stupid if you keep up like that,” she said glaring at him. Her odd colored eyes could definitely be terrifying in the right light, Danny decided.

“Fine,” Danny huffed, his green eyes fixed on the fence in front of them. She was still staring intently at him; Danny could feel her gaze burning into his soul. Before they even reached the gate, there were guards marching toward them. Danny felt frozen, and he wanted to bolt. Soldiers always made him feel uneasy. He was pretty sure it was because of the guns they usually carried. Ashlin seemed to notice his uneasiness and took the lead, making him feel a little worse that he was hiding behind a girl.

“Halt!” he heard one of them yell. Danny stopped in his tracks, but Ashlin didn’t. She just continued to march toward them. They raised their guns as she neared them and she threw up her arms in an act of surrender. The two of them grabbed her by her arms and dragged her back toward Danny. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the taller, chubbier one demanded. Danny decided to stay quiet since he usually messed these kind things up. Check that off as one of his abilities. Messing things up.

“I’m Ashlin Stillwater, daughter of General Brandon Stillwater,” she said in a tired, wary voice. It sounded so practiced, almost as if she’d been running the sentence through her mind repeatedly, but the guards immediately released her. “I’m here to take James to seek medical treatment.”

“James…?”

“Richards,” Danny answered quickly as Ashlin looked over her shoulder at him.

The other guard nodded and allowed Ashlin to stand up, which earned them a terrifying glare from her. “We will escort you to General Stillwater,” he said.

Ashlin raised a hand as if to throw his words away. “No, I’m pretty sure I can find him on my own,” she said. And with that, she grabbed Danny’s wrist roughly and started dragging him toward the fence. The guards didn’t argue; Danny couldn’t blame them. “Whose name is that?” she inquired curiously once they were far enough away from the guards. Danny found it equally interesting that she knew that he had used someone else’s name.

“My father’s,” Danny murmured quietly, keeping his voice low so the lunatics behind them couldn’t hear him. Maybe she was as good at reading minds as she was being annoying.

“James Richards…” she said thoughtfully as she let her eyes wander to the sky. “So you’re name starts with a D, and your last name is Richards…” She pondered over that for a moment. “Dean?” she suggested. Danny shook his head with a grimace. “Yeah, you don’t really look like a Dean anyway.” She fell silent as they reached the gate.

“Names,” someone said. Danny didn’t see anyone anywhere though.

“Ashlin Stillwater and James Richards,” she said. The gate opened, squeaking the whole way—it really could have done with a couple hundred gallons of WD40. “Welcome to Death,” she said offering him a slightly sarcastic smile.

Ashlin still tried to guess his names until they reached the infirmary where they told her she wasn’t allowed to enter. Danny never knew there were so many names that began with D, and yet somehow she entirely missed Daniel.

While she was being ushered—by a lot of force—away one of the doctors led him toward a curtained room and told him that they were going to run some scans on him. Danny sank back in the very uncomfortable chair.

‡

Ashlin sank into her armchair in relief. Getting back to base had been the initial plan for a while now. But the boy, James, had finally made it possible to go through with. And thank God for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore of Mark’s stupidity. Training your own kid to beat up people… Well… Some people knew how to raise children and some obviously did _not_.

She knew, _just knew_ , that Brandon would show up in a matter of time. Some idiot on this godforsaken base would tell him. That was how this base worked. _Tell the general! Maybe I’ll get something for it!_ Ashlin sighed inwardly. _No, you won’t,_ she thought to herself. But there was no telling these soldiers that. They would only ignore her. They seemed to be very good at _that_ and _only_ that.

James was hopefully getting the treatment he needed, though she wasn’t putting all her faith on the doctors here. The last time she’d trusted them to help, they’d left her with a huge, ugly, jagged scar along her arm and without a mother. She had to admit that they _were_ unprepared for the procedure.

“Ashlin?” came the familiar voice she’d been hoping wouldn’t come to her door.

Fighting the huge urge to snap at the voice, she got to her feet and opened the door to a crack. Lo and behold, her favorite person. Brandon. Her father. It didn’t surprised her that much. It annoyed her more than anything. The annoying soldiers around here couldn’t keep their mouths shut. “Yes?” she inquired icily, her eyebrows raised in boredom. She wished he would just go away.

“May I come in?” he asked, his tone too polite. His dark eyes wouldn’t meet hers. It seemed that they never stayed focused on anything for longer than a couple seconds. She nodded and opened the door the rest of the way stiffly, allowing him into her room. “Before you start snapping,” he said warily, allowing himself to meet her eyes for a brief moment before finding something else to find interest in, “I want to know why you came back with him.”

Ashlin blinked her eyes, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse although there really didn’t need to be reason for an excuse at all. She knew she couldn’t say anything about her wanting to go into the military. “He was hurt,” she said simply. It wasn’t as if she was lying. He was hurt, and Mark would have killed him if she hadn’t gotten him out of there. “He obviously couldn’t drive himself, not that I would have let him anyway. He looked like he was going to die every time we hit a bump.” Brandon raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “So I drove him. Mark let me.”

“Mark,” Brandon started in his usual condescending tone, “is a complete idiot.”

Ashlin scoffed. _Like you’re any better_ , she wanted to say. “Don’t get all high and mighty on him,” she muttered with a hard glare in her father’s direction. “You hired him.” The look Brandon gave her made her want to smirk in triumph, but she pushed the feeling away. “I’m sorry that I came back. I guess I’ll go right back to Mark’s farm and die of a heatstroke. Not that you would care much.”

Brandon frowned at her words. He muttered something that sounded similar to, “I do care,” but made no other attempts to clarify it before he left the room in a hurry.

‡

Danny fell asleep during the scannings and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He hadn’t been _that_ tired. Not that he was going to argue. He felt a lot better afterwards, minus the ache across his whole torso. He was still in the infirmary, but somewhere else. They had moved him to an actual room with a door instead of a curtain. The room was empty besides the chair he was sleeping in and the weird pink-grey color of the walls and curtains. Nobody else was in the room when he woke up, so when someone walked in, he nearly had a heart attack, but he managed to calm himself down before the doctor finally spoke.

“James,” he said acknowledging him with a dip of his head. “It seems that you’ve got some bruised ribs, no internal bleeding as you suggested earlier. You might feel a little bit of pain while you heal though.”

Danny sighed in relief, which hurt quite a bit. _Thank God,_ he thought. Internal bleeding wouldn’t have sat well with him, not that bruised ribs made him feel any better, but he didn’t really get a say in that. “Thank you,” he said in the politest voice he could manage.

“You have some visitors,” the doctor told him over his shoulder before leaving his room.

 _Visitors?_ Danny thought scrunching up his face in puzzlement. _Ashlin?_ Except it _wasn’t_ only her. It turned out that General Stillwater had decided to tag along as well. Danny instantly wished he was dead, or at least invisible.

“Ashlin tells me that you’re interested in joining my military,” he said, his brown eyes seeming a little calmer than they had the other day. Then again, he also wasn’t barking at them like they were stupid this time…or threatening to kill them, though he might as well have been.

Danny clenched his jaw to keep himself from yelling ‘Why would you even _tell_ him that?!’ at Ashlin. He didn’t need to blow her cover or his for that matter. “Yes,” he answered in an unusually steady voice for how stressed he felt. “But not without her.” General Stillwater swiveled his attention back to Ashlin. Obviously, he knew that this was her plan. “But…” Danny started, watching his words, “I don’t see how I can join right now since I’m injured.”

“You would have to heal first,” he said pulling his gaze off his daughter, though Danny was pretty sure that he was still thinking of ways to yell at her later. “I don’t see why Ashlin needs to be there—”

“It’s either a deal, or it isn’t a deal,” Danny said icily, dark green eyes flashing. “Take both of us, or don’t take either of us.” He peeled his gaze off the general to Ashlin, who was trying very hard not to grin with her father still there.

“I’ll decide when you’ve finished healing. For now, you can stay on the base,” he said as he turned around abruptly, seemingly unhappy and hasty.

As soon as he was out of the door, Ashlin started beaming at him. “Thank you,” she said hardly containing her happiness. “As long as you’ve got him thinking about it,” she grinned. “Now… I’ve got a plan.”

‡

Danny didn’t like the plan.

It consisted of him constantly working out—at that point he was beginning to question if she really knew how much pain he was already in and how much pain it would cause—and watching what the other recruits and soldiers did. And that meant stalking people around the base for the next month or so while Danny waited for his ribs to heal. Just so he could try to join the military for Ashlin.

As much as he _wanted_ to have a friend, the girl was really pushing her luck. Making him do jumping jacks and pushups was _not_ the best thing to do when he could hardly even take a deep breath. He understood her motivation, and he knew that, at some point, he was going to have to get in better shape, so he didn’t blame her too much. If it had been the other way around, he was sure that he would have put her through the same amount of stress. It might not be as intense as she was making it, but he would’ve made her work for it.

General Stillwater didn’t even bother to question the training she was putting him through. Danny was sure that the general knew what she was up to, and he knew that he couldn’t stop Ashlin so he just gave up on the attempt. If she could make it through training, then so be it. Ashlin was old enough to take care of herself if he wouldn’t do it.

‡

Pacing around his office not ideal, nor was it appealing. It was actually quite annoying. But at this point, while he was waiting for news, there was nothing else to do. Everything that John tried recently had almost gone the opposite way he’d intended for it to go.

He already knew that he had to be prepared for Hunter to tell him that he wouldn’t accept the help, and that he was the evil in the war. He was every bit like his father—proud and haughty at the wrong times. John had, for once, wanted to set things right for the boy, but he’d thrown his offers back in his face.

“Boss?” the voice of Baker—the man who was supposed to be looking after all of John’s captives—echoed behind him.

John turned to face him, a distant look in his stormy eyes. “Hm?” he prompted, grey eyes focusing on Baker.

Baker licked his lips in thought as if he’d forgotten what he was going to say. “Er, we’ve got a slight problem,” he said at last, sounding and looking mildly irritated. “That kid—”

“The one that you brought me the other day? Hunter?” he inquired, an eyebrow winging up in curiosity.

Baker nodded. “Yeah, he’s the one, Boss,” he said hastily. “Uhm, problem is, the kid ain’t in his cage anymore. No idea where the kid made off… Couldn’t have gone very far. There ain’t a way out of here.” Baker turned his face away from John.

John blinked his eyes in disbelief. He knew that the Richards’ family had a history of being irrational, but running away wasn’t anything that his family would do. Then again, Hunter had said that the only way he was getting out was if he did it himself. “Did you look _everywhere_?” John inquired agitatedly. Without the boy, there wouldn’t be a good way of turning the war around.

Baker nodded again. “I swear, I looked everywhere, Boss. I dunno where he’s gone.”

He clenched his fists into tight balls in the pockets of his shabby suit jacket and sighed. “Sound the alarm. That’ll frighten him enough, so long as he’s still here.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Baker said with a snort of amusement. “He can’t leave. There isn’t a way out of here without going through the front door,” he promised.

John shook his head, grey eyes closed, wishing he could hit Baker for his stupidity. “There are plenty of ways out of here, Baker, not just through the front door,” he said quietly. “If he really wanted out, he will have found a way. Have men scout the area around the building. If he’s gone, let him go. He’ll find out the hard way that he can’t live out there for very long.”

‡

“Get up,” someone, Ashlin he assumed, said from the doorway of the room that she’d found for him to sleep in until the general said otherwise. Danny had to admit, the room was pretty nice, even if it was tiny. She was leaning against the doorframe with an impatient look spread across her face when Danny finally blinked his eyes open.

Danny sighed and propped himself up so he was sleepily sitting on his bed. “It’s not even,” Danny muttered as he looked at the alarm clock sitting next to his bed and yawned, hurting like hell, “six in the morning…” he grumbled turning his grumpy glare to Ashlin

“Yeah?” she said rolling her eyes. She was already wide-awake, probably because she’d found coffee somewhere. She really didn’t need it. “Better hurry up before the rest of the recruits eat the food,” she said as she pushed herself off the doorframe and walked into his room.

Danny pushed himself off his bed and walked toward his dresser with a scowl—which made no sense because he only had the clothes he was wearing with him. “Get out,” Danny mumbled blinking his eyes sleepily. “I’m taking a shower,” he muttered trying to make a shooing gesture, but he was half-awake and failed the attempt.

“No, you’re getting new clothes first,” she said as she eyed his not-so-great clothes and then walked out of the room. “I’ll be back,” she called over her shoulder and then she disappeared around the corner of the door that she shut behind her.

 _Great,_ Danny sighed. _Now I have a girl picking clothes out for me_. He stalked into the bathroom, or what was considered a bathroom here. In Danny’s opinion, he didn’t believe it could possible count as a bathroom. It was a tiny room with a small shower stall that only ran freezing cold water with a tiny toilet. Danny wasn’t sure _who_ designed the place, but whoever it was obviously didn’t know how to design very well.

Ashlin left the new clothes outside the bathroom door. At first, Danny didn’t think they were as bad as he thought they would be. They were all black, which Danny could deal with, even if he didn’t like it. They were much better than wearing his current clothes—aside from his jacket that somehow had managed to stay in almost perfect condition. The whole outfit had to be at least three sizes too big, which he decided she did on purpose. He knew for sure that she did it on purpose when he walked out of the room and she started laughing at him. “You know,” he said rolling his eyes at her amusement, “you easily could have figured out that these were too big for me,” he muttered.

“Grumpy,” she said with a snort. “Fine, we’ll get you some clothes that fit better. But first you’re going to train, and I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

If what she meant by ‘training’ was embarrassing himself in front of almost all of General Stillwater’s recruits, soldiers, and officers, she was dead on. Danny only managed to do ten pushups before his chest started to feel as if it was going to collapse in on him. And he didn’t get much more for sit-ups either, since that put a strain on him even more than the pushups did. He thanked God that she stopped him before he got the chance to embarrass himself more by running two miles. That could’ve gotten ugly fast.

She dragged him away to the cafeteria after that. Even though he felt like someone had run him through a shredder, he felt bad for disappointing her, though not completely thinking she was sane. She’d seen the bruises that covered his torso, so it wasn’t as if she didn’t know about them. He heard a few of the recruits snicker behind him as they walked past them in the cafeteria. Danny wished that he could show them that he wasn’t as terrible as he was right now, but since he _was_ that terrible at the moment, he couldn’t show them anything.

“You’re pretty pathetic,” she told him as she pushed through the door to the line of food, which held very little food, though luckily there weren’t many others there. Danny wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get here as fast as they did. Or maybe it was that the recruits just took all of the food before he’d gotten there. Probably on purpose too.

“You’re pushy,” he muttered scowling as he grabbed a flimsy plate. _Pushy_ _among other words_ , he thought to himself as he rolled his eyes.

“Maybe you should stop playing the pathetic card and actually do a couple of pushups instead of sitting around eating all day,” Ashlin said poking him in the stomach. “If you do that, Brandon can’t say no.” She paused for a moment, realizing that Danny wasn’t listening to her and then punched him in the shoulder. “ _I_ can say no though.”

Danny reflexively grabbed his shoulder, not that it hurt too much, but he wanted to make sure she didn’t hit him again. “I can say no as well,” he told her before he ducked away from her and scooped up bacon before she had the chance to hit him again.

She stayed where she was while glaring at him, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, well I hear your ‘no’ as ‘I’m too fat and lazy, please exercise me more’.” She grinned at him, which he ignored as he started picking up muffins by the handful. “Grab some food and then we’ll get you some of those new clothes that you’ve been whining about so badly.” With that, she turned toward the door, hardly giving him a chance to hold on to the muffins before he had to run after her.

“I think your name is Diane,” she started thoughtfully, “which is why you won’t tell me what your name is,” she finished before he finally caught up with her. “It’s got to be something embarrassing if you can’t tell me.” She eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s not Diane,” he huffed as he took a bite of the only muffin he’d managed to keep in his hands when he had to run after her. “It’s none of your business.”

“Well, ‘None of Your Business’, I think I have a right to know,” she said and then suddenly turned suddenly taking him by surprise. “I saved you from Mark’s kid and you can’t even give me your name?” She pushed open the door to what seemed like a storage unit. There were tons and tons of clothes in there, but they only seemed to be black. Danny sighed inwardly. “These are trainers’ clothes,” she explained not looking back at him. “I used to steal clothes from here when I was little.” She smiled mischievously.

“Why would I want these?” he questioned cautiously. She might have been able to get away with stealing things around here, but Danny had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Danny took another bite of his muffin watching her scan the clothes.

“They weigh you down more, make you work harder. Personally, I think you could do with it,” she told him as she started to sort through some of the clothes.

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, but it’ll help you get your strength back faster,” she said, her eyes flickering from item to item as she tried to figure out what would actually fit him. “But if anyone asks, just tell them they were in your room.”

“You know, I don’t really like lying to everyone,” he muttered, earning him a glare from her because he was _already_ lying to everyone about his name. That didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled a t-shirt and pair of black cargo pants off the shelf and shoved it toward him. “Don’t complain unless you want to go back to the fields,” she threatened throwing a jacket at him. “Those should fit you better,” she said as she finally turned back toward him. She gave him an expectant look, as if she wanted him to change right there, right now.

After _a lot_ of arguing and threatening, Danny changed his clothes as quickly as he could, muttering things about how stupid and annoying she was. “You need a haircut too,” she told him gesturing to his dark brown hair atop of his head.

“No,” he said grudgingly. _Nobody is going to touch my hair_ , he told himself as he absently ran his fingers through his hair as if to make sure it was still there. “It’s fine.”

“It’s too long,” she argued, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not supposed to touch your ears.” She reminded him a lot of her father, but he didn’t say so. She probably would have killed him for thinking that. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll cut it myself,” she offered brightly.

“No thanks,” he said hurriedly. With the way she’d been lately, he feared for his safety. He was sure that that she would cut all his hair off, or that she would purposely make it look stupid. “I like it the way it is.”

“Suit yourself,” she muttered shrugging her shoulders. She pushed past him to reach the door. “I’ll just do it in the middle of the night,” she grinned as she stood below the doorframe, waiting for him to leave so she could lock the door behind them.

“I’ll lock my door.”

“I can unlock it,” she said holding up a ring of keys as he stumbled out of the storage room. She locked the door and turned to walk down the hall.

“That’s _kind_ of creepy,” Danny said, pulling a face. As he finished his words, a red light started to flash down the hallway. Danny looked sideways at her in confusion. “Er, what’s that?”

Her pupils stretched wide in surprise and fear. “That’s not good,” she replied, which didn’t really answer his question. Without another word, she grabbed his hand and ran.

‡

As it turned out, it meant that the flashing lights meant fire. And since Danny had the absolute _best_ luck, they ran right into it. He was sure that there had to be a way to contact someone about getting a new set of luck or something because this was starting to get ridiculous.

“Do they not know what firefighters are here?” Danny yelled over the roaring of the flames that were surrounded them. It was spreading fast, which was not helping him at all. He was pretty sure they were trapped, not helping his fear.

“No?” she said as if it were obvious. “That’s what the ex-recruits are for,” she grinned, though worry shined through the forced expression. It would have been reassuring to know that he wasn’t the only one freaking out if it weren’t for the fact that they could die.

“We’re going to burn to death here,” Danny muttered in desperation, green eyes flashing in all directions to try to find an escape route. Between the smoke and the panic attack, his breathing wasn’t working very well.

“No,” she said stopping in her tracks. She finally let go of his hand as she stepped away from him. They had been running around for at least the last five minutes trying _not_ to run into the fire, but it seemed that everywhere they went the fire followed. Her golden gaze darted back and forth along the halls looking for any way out of the flames. “Stay here.”

Danny didn’t dare move. He was too afraid that the fire would swallow him, or maybe it was just that he wasn’t crazy enough to follow her to wherever she was going. He didn’t exactly see where she went, but wherever it was, it wasn’t very far. She was back after about a minute with her shoulders hanging low in defeat. “There’s no way out,” she told him. Her eyes reflected the flames almost perfectly, except that flames couldn’t show fear.

Danny stared at her in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. “I’m not dying here,” he argued, furrowing his eyebrows. He’d lived in Philadelphia without an issue, and he’d lived through his short experience in the fields. Dying in a fire almost seemed too pathetic to him. “How well do these clothes hold up against fire and heat?” he inquired, his forest green eyes set on her in question.

She scowled at him, realizing what his plan was. “Not very well, they’re flammable,” she explained, “Trust me, I know.” She pulled up the sleeve of her shirt up to her shoulder revealing a jagged scar running from her elbow to her shoulder, the approaching flames lighting it up in a yellowy-orange light. “If you plan to do what I think you’re going to do, you’ll burn and it will _definitely_ leave a mark.”

Danny bit down on his lip in frustration. Their only chance at escaping the spreading fire at this point would be _through_ the fire, and he was probably going to burn trying to get out. While the idea might have sounded heroic at any other time, it did _not_ now. “Well, how flammable are your clothes?” Danny asked. _She_ was the one who wanted in the military, not him. If Ashlin could get out, then he could deal with that, though he would have liked to live without being burned.

She shook her head, running her hands through her dark hair anxiously. “I wouldn’t make it,” she said.

Danny closed his eyes. She wasn’t lying about that, and he knew it. There had to be a way out of there, but _where_?

“If I got you into the ceiling, could you make it?” Danny asked as he glanced upward. The look she gave him told him that she knew what would happen to him.

“Probably,” she said following his green gaze up to the ceiling, which was now glowing yellow-orange with the enclosing flames. “But I won’t leave you,” she said sternly, leaving no room for arguments.

Danny shook his head anyway. “You go that way, I’ll try my luck with the flames,” he said taking a deep breath and silently wishing that Mark had shot him on the farm. “Gimme your foot,” Danny muttered over the crackling flames making a platform out of his hands for her to stand on. It took a few seconds before she finally stepped on to his hands. Danny pushed her toward the ceiling. She threw the cover of the vent onto the ground before pulling herself into the vents and turned around before she disappeared.

“Good luck!” she yelled down, worry lurking in her tawny eyes, before disappearing into the vents.

Danny took a deep breath before he stepped forward into the flames without another thought.


	4. Chapter 4

 

The vents were burning and filled with smoke. That hadn’t been on her mind when she had first climbed into it. She wished she had thought about it, but then she would have been stuck with James trying to figure out how to get away from the fire. She wouldn’t have made it through the way that he had suggested. James would have. The trainer’s clothes would have held up, _her_ clothes wouldn’t have.

Ashlin could feel her knees and hands burning as she continued to drag herself through the vents. Her hair felt like it was on fire as well—she was beginning to think that it actually _was_ on fire. She was really starting to wish that she’d stayed put and tried to make it out the same way as James. She was pretty sure the outcome would have been the same.

She could hardly see. The heat hurt her eyes enough that she closed for the most part. And even when they were open, she could never find a vent that would lead her away from the fire. The fire seemed to have spread everywhere.

What seemed like hours finally came to an end when she misplaced her footing and put her knees through a vent, cool air rushing to greet her. She accepted it for a moment before the pain set in. Searing pain ran up and down her whole body. She collapsed on the ground, unable to move very far without putting herself in more pain. A tiny voice in the back of her head told her to stop moving, to stop struggling. It wouldn’t matter anymore.

Ashlin thought otherwise. She was going to make it. She tried to push herself to her feet, but she couldn’t even muster the strength to push herself to her knees. The burns hurt too much. “Damn it,” she mumbled as her eyes forced themselves closed and everything around her went black.

‡

Ashlin lied to him. The trainers’ clothes held up against the flames better than he thought they would. They were a little scorched, along with some of his own skin, but he didn’t care. He figured she lied to him because she knew her clothes wouldn’t have held up, she would have burned, but she didn’t want to be alone if it came to that. He was beginning to wonder if she made it out of the vents all right. Danny hated to think about it, but the vents would have overheated and been like an oven. She could have burned in there, and that would have been his fault.

Danny made it out of the fire, safely for the most part. His face felt a little toasty, and his hair was a little singed, but he felt fine besides that.

Ashlin, on the other hand, was not. Someone who had found him in the halls had informed him that she was in the infirmary with severe burns. He wasn’t ready to admit that it was his idea just yet.

The moment Danny heard about the injuries he was gone. He rushed to the infirmary without another word.

When he arrived there, she was lying in a bed with her remaining hair that had been cut short spread around her head. The burns were what concerned him more than anything else did. Her hands were wrapped in bandages already. Her face was burnt, though not nearly as badly as her hands had been since there was no wrapping on her face. That was all he could see since the rest of her body was covered in a thin blanket, but he knew there were more burns. And it was all his fault.

Danny felt terrible. He was standing there with practically no burns besides the singed hair and possibly mildly roasted face and hands, and she was lying in a bed body mostly covered in burns. He wasn’t even sure if she was going to live through this. He _wanted_ her to, but his doubts were high. He’d made it here because of her, and he wasn’t about to let her give up just yet.

“James,” one of the doctors told him as he entered Ashlin’s room. Ashlin was supposed to undergo surgery. He wasn’t told why, so he just shrugged it off. “You need to leave, General—”

“No, he can stay,” the general said as he pushed past the doctor. He sounded tired and looked _far_ beyond it. He was worrying over Ashlin, as he should have been, which almost surprised Danny, though he was beginning to wonder if the general was as bad as Ashlin made him sound.

Danny sat back down in the chair beside her bed, confused. He didn’t like the general very much, and he was pretty sure that the general didn’t like him either. He wasn’t sure why the older man was allowing him to stay there, but he wasn’t going to argue.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. He couldn’t make himself look at General Stillwater no matter how much Danny wanted to. All of this was his fault. _He_ was the reason that she was lying there. _He_ was the reason they had come to the base in the first place. _He_ was the reason why there were where they were at the time. “I—it was my idea to have her go through the vents. I—I should have thought it through more… But we were… We were both desperate to get out—”

“It’s fine,” the general said quietly, taking Danny by complete surprise. If he had been in General Stillwater’s place, he would have been yelling. But _no_ , he said it was _fine_. “The fire shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.” He fell silent and closed his eyes. “Did they tell you her recovery rate? What she’ll be able to do after this?” he asked, his unnerving brown eyes fixed on him. Danny shook his head. Maybe they had, but he was in so much shock that he probably hadn’t heard. “They’re saying she could be paralyzed. That the fire did too much damage to her nerves. She might not be able to walk again.” His lower jaw trembled slightly. “I shouldn’t have let her wander…” he muttered. He hung his head and massaged his fingers against his temples with a sigh.

Danny grinded his teeth at the news. “She’ll pull through,” he told the general, though he was sure he was only telling himself that she would pull through for his own sake. “It’ll just take a little time.” Without another word, Danny stood from his chair and left, unable to stand seeing Ashlin like this anymore.

‡

Hunter stood outside the huge grey building that he had finally escaped, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. He had no idea how he’d managed to get out of there without someone seeing him even though he knew any moment that someone would realize his cage was empty. He couldn’t run any further if he didn’t catch his breath first.

And then the alarm sounded.

Hunter closed his eyes and clenched his hand into a fist at his side. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath and then, without another thought, he made a run for it. He knew that he wasn’t going to get far. There wasn’t a way to get away from the building fast enough with the alarm going off.

There was loud shouting from the top of the building, which was more like distant murmurs to Hunter, but he knew that they were looking for him. Someone had probably seen him at that point. _Might as well give up now_ , his conscience told him. _No,_ he snapped back as he continued to run, his chest heaving as he tried to push himself further.

“Where are you goin’ kid?” someone inquired from the side of the building, a hundred yards away. Hunter pushed the voice out and ignored it. Distractions wouldn’t get him very far, which is exactly what the voice did. He tripped over the rocky ground and landed, arms outstretched, into the gravel.

There were heavy footsteps on the gravelly-rocks behind him. Hunter would have tried to get up and run if he thought he had a chance to get away, but, at this point, there was no chance to run. There were people on the roof watching. He was going to be thrown back into a cage or shot on the spot. He was pulled to his feet by the collar of his threading shirt. For a moment, he just stood there, trying to catch his breath and letting the pain of his arms being smashed into the gravel set in. The moment seemed to last shorter than it really was. He was shoved forward by the man toward the building.

“You’re pretty stupid, kid,” he said, his voice gruff. He sounded annoyed. Apparently, it wasn’t often that someone made a run for it. “You’re gonna be in so much trouble.”

Hunter tried to shrug his shoulders, but stopped the action when he realized how much pain it put him in. “Can’t be too much trouble. I’m always in a ton of trouble anyway,” he muttered rolling his eyes.

The man forcefully pushed him through the door. “Just you wait,” he said, eyes dancing in amusement. “You’re gonna get hell for this, and I’m just gonna be sitting there laughing.”

 _So, no different than normal_ , Hunter snorted to himself.

“Get in there,” the man said pulling open a cage door. He pushed Hunter forward, making him stumble into the cage. “Stay there,” he muttered before turning away from the cage and making his way down the hall without another word or look back at Hunter.

Hunter sat back in the cage, shoulders hunched, eyes tightly squeezed shut. He wished he were far, far away from this stupid, horrible place.

“Hello, Pretty,” someone nearby said.

Hunter wasn’t sure who they were talking to at first, but after a minute of complete silence, he realized the person was talking to him. “What do you want?” he muttered snappily, green eyes darting in the direction of the voice.

“Feisty,” the person snorted in amusement. “How’d you manage to get caught?” the person, a woman, Hunter decided, asked.

“Where are you?” Hunter mumbled ignoring the previous question.

There was a loud sigh before the woman spoke again. “To your left,” she said sounding a little annoyed, but it only lasted a moment. Hunter looked to his left to see an old woman sitting in the cage. “How’d you get caught?” she inquired a second time, her stormy grey eyes locked on him with interest.

“I was being stupid,” Hunter muttered, looking at his hands in the shadows. The first time he had ended up in the warehouse had been Daniel’s fault. If his brother hadn’t left him behind, he wouldn’t have been in the cage, the first time _or_ the second time. He wouldn’t have had to be in this place. “Where are we?” he whispered, though he had a pretty good feeling of where they were. He felt no need to give away any of hints that he knew what was going on.

“Your guess is as good as mine, boy,” she sighed as she stifled a yawn. “Was your family killed too?” she asked gently, the sudden change of tone taking him by surprise.

Hunter bit his lip. “My mom and dad were both shot,” he answered, his voice slowly turning from gentleness to bitterness, “but my brother left me.” He clenched his hands into fists in front of him angrily. _He didn’t even look back to see if I was following him_ , he thought sourly.

The woman glanced at him sympathetically, grey eyes glinting in the dim light. “My family was shot too,” she murmured quietly. “Kids, grandkids, husband…” she muttered hoarsely. “I don’t know why they’re waiting around for me. They could take you out of here. Make you into a mercenary, or whatever it is that they do with you kids. They can’t do anything with me. Not now.”

He scowled, his brow furrowed. “I don’t want to do that,” he said immediately. He wasn’t made for killing. The thought of even holding a gun made him feel uneasy. “I just want out of this stupid place. I’m going to run.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” she murmured with a sigh. “They’d gun you down faster than they dragged you back in here.”

Hunter knew that was true, but he didn’t want to be stuck in the warehouse forever. And he sure as hell didn’t want to be forced to be a mercenary. “I could go to the Academy,” he suggested weakly. If he did happen to get in with a lot of luck they wouldn’t give him up to that kind of life. But his chances of getting in were low. Danny had gotten in, but his brother had also been a lot smarter than he had ever been.

“I don’t think anyone’s being let into the Academy anymore,” she said stiffly. “Last I knew, they had started removing kids from there and setting them up to work like this. Or they get killed.” She shifted in her cage, scooting away from the front as one of the guards walked by looking grim.

“My brother’s there,” Hunter mumbled halfheartedly. Or at least he hoped that Daniel was there. The Academy would be his first stop if he ever made it out of the warehouse.

“Doubt it,” she grunted, as the guard unlocked her cage, the metal keys jingling loudly against one another. “If they give you the choice to be a mercenary, do it. You’ll take me for it later, boy.” Those were the last words he heard from her before the guard dragged her away.

‡

 _Hunter ran through the pouring rain, his forest green eyes squeezed shut to keep the water from blinding him further. He wasn’t sure_ why _he was running, but he didn’t stop. His initial thought was that maybe he was running_ toward _something instead of running from something. But with the rain stinging his eyes when they were open, and seeing nothing with his eyes closed, he wasn’t sure. He kept running anyway, with his dark grey hoodie clinging to his skin in the frigid rain. The least he could do was find somewhere to stay out of the downpour._

_He didn’t notice that the rain had stopped until he had to stop running from the burning feeling in his lungs. The moment he opened his eyes he nearly had a heart attack. Standing in front of him was Daniel._

_What are you doing here? Hunter wanted to ask, but couldn’t make the words form on his lips. Danny couldn’t have been wherever it was that they were. He didn’t even_ look _right. Danny’s hair was shorter, much shorter than he was used to. His dark brown waves had been shaved down to a half inch of straight hair. Even his face looked changed. He looked worn down, sterner. Hunter didn’t like it. This wasn’t the Danny he knew._

_“D-Danny?” Hunter stammered, green eyes locked on his older brother in mild confusion and anger._

_The smile he received from Danny looked plastic to Hunter. It wasn’t the warm smiles Danny used to give. It was cold and meaningless. “Hey, Hunter,” he said, his own voice forcing the smile to be warmer. It almost hurt too much to hear his brother’s voice again._

_“What are you doing here?” he demanded squeezing the arm of his hoodie to try to get some of the water off of him, though he wasn’t sure how much it was going to help._ This has to be a dream _, Hunter told himself sternly. Danny was in the Academy, safe, not… Not militarized._

 _“You’ll see,” he said, looking a little saddened. “You’re fine, all right, Hunts? You’re safe in that cage. Whatever you do, don’t lose that safety.”_ Definitely a dream _, Hunter inwardly sighed. There wasn’t a way that Danny would have known about the cage in the real world. “I love you, Hunts,” he said. “You’re going to face some hard times. But don’t forget that I still love you.”_


	5. Chapter 5

Danny woke up to a loud knock on his door, completely unaware of his surroundings and definitely not very awake. Even after a month of being woken up like this, he wasn’t used to it. Within that month, his ribs and the singes he’d received from the fire had healed for the most part. Ashlin’s condition hadn’t improved much though. She was talking, but moving beyond that was too hard on her.

“James,” the person said in a stern tone from outside his door. His voice was too muffled by the door that separated them to tell who it was, annoying him a little bit. He was grateful that the rooms were soundproof— _more_ than grateful really—, but it was so hard to hold any sort of conversation through the door. “General Stillwater would like to see you.”

 _Of course he would,_ Danny thought to himself as he rolled his eyes behind his eyelids. He wanted to fall back asleep. “Okay,” he called back, not moving in his bed. He didn’t want to get up yet. Or at all. The people around the base had no concept of sleep.

“James?”

“Yes?” Danny said louder than he meant, but he didn’t care.

“Now,” the man said from the other side of the door. There was silence and then the barely audible clicks of the man’s shoes against the tiled hallway.

Danny sighed as he rolled over in his bed, his eyes still closed. “No,” he muttered as he stuffed his face into his pillow. He laid there for a few more minutes before he finally decided to get up. After nearly falling on his face, he decided that morning was not going to be his best, not that any morning seemed to be his best anyway. He left the room a minute later, nearly scaring on of the recruits to death because just as he started to knock on the door, Danny yanked the door open. Danny was beginning to wonder how long they thought it took to get clothes on if they were going to be after him every five minutes.

The hallways were almost deserted with the occasional recruit walking around. Danny assumed that most of them were already busy with training, or that maybe they were sleeping like most normal human beings. Unfortunately, it seemed that General Stillwater was not a normal human being and since he was not, he assumed Danny wasn’t either and forced him to wake up at ungodly hours. Even if the general had good enough reasons, it didn’t keep Danny from wanting to punch him.

He had a brief thought of going to the cafeteria to grab a muffin or two, but pushed the thought away knowing that General Stillwater would probably yell at him for doing that. The general would probably yell at him for anything without a reason, giving him all the more reason to yell at him. He pushed the door to the general’s office open and stood by the door with his hands behind his back, waiting impatiently for General Stillwater to speak with him.

His office wasn’t _huge_ , but it wasn’t exactly small either. Unsurprisingly, it was filled with anything and everything that fell under the category of ‘military’. What he _did_ find surprising was the one picture of what looked like a mini-version of Ashlin with another woman that Danny assumed was her mother from the close resemblance they shared. Danny looked away quickly when General Stillwater cleared his throat. He was still sitting in his chair behind his desk with his dark eyes focused on the papers in front of him, almost as if he hadn’t even noticed that Danny had entered the room.

“Sit,” he told him without looking up. Danny fought the urge to argue with him, but thought better of it before sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of the general’s desk obediently. “I assume that you’re wondering why I asked for you?” he asked, looking up from his papers without moving anything but his eyes, his forehead creased with wrinkles. Danny sat there quietly, not answering the question. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question, not that he really wanted to know the answer either. “Ashlin demanded—threatened me until I promised—that I let you begin your training.”

Danny blinked his eyes in disbelief. Not only in the disbelief that the general was letting him train, but also in disbelief of Ashlin still wanting to get a place in the military in her condition. “I… Uh, thank you, General Stillwater,” Danny stammered.

“You should be thanking Ashlin, not me,” he muttered shaking his head, “It was her… Stubbornness.” He sighed, giving his stack of papers a stray look. “Tonight you will start your training. And since your friend has made it my job, I’ll be training you.”

“Err… I…” Danny mumbled, unsure of what he was trying to say. He was surprised and a little scared. He hadn’t seen General Stillwater be caring in any situation besides his own daughter being hurt. That wasn’t something he was looking forward to dealing with.

He pushed the papers away from him and looked back at Danny. “Don’t worry,” he promised with a rare, scary smile that Danny was sure meant that he _should_ worry, “she made me promise not to kill you.”

 _He’s definitely going to kill me_ , Danny thought as he bit on the inside of his lip anxiously. “Okay, thank you,” he said with a nod as he stood up from his seat before turning to the door. He wanted to get out of the man’s general vicinity as quickly as he could. Danny figured the general’s next move would be to use him as target practice. Or a punching bag. Or maybe even a good old scarecrow outside the fence in one of the fields.

“Don’t make it too hard on her,” he said from behind him, catching Danny off guard. At first, Danny wasn’t sure of what the general meant by that. She _wanted_ him to join the military, for her own selfish reasons, but she wanted him there. That was, until he realized that she probably wouldn’t be able to do what she wanted even after her burns healed. There was the possibility that the burns had done too much damage to her that she wouldn’t be able to do what everyone else was capable of.

“I won’t,” he promised as he pushed his way out of the heavy door and headed for the infirmary, the idea of muffins completely forgotten.

When Danny reached the infirmary it was almost ten in the morning, eight hours short of the beginning of his dreaded training. Ashlin was sitting up in her bed picking at her nails before she noticed him enter the room. Her eyes beamed at him as he crossed the room, clearly happy that he’d come to see her.

“Hiya,” she said cheerily with a half smirk, the burns hindering her from being able to smile completely. He was surprised that she could even do that.

“Hey,” Danny said offering a small smile in her direction. “I see you’ve taken to sitting up, huh?” he added, quirking an eyebrow, green eyes shining brightly.

Ashlin managed a tiny nod. “And I see you’ve finally gotten that haircut,” she noted, giving his hair a suspicious squint.

Two days before, Danny had cut his hair—without sustaining any major injuries—intending to please Ashlin, and to keep her father from possibly killing him for not following rules. “Mhmm,” he said touching his hair absently. It no longer touched his ears as it was barely more than a half inch long, which bothered him since it had been kept at the nape of his neck for years. “Just for you,” he suggested flashing a grin.

“Yeah, but _I_ wanted to cut it,” she sighed, tawny-golden eyes glaring at him. If she had been able to, she probably would have launched herself at him, or thrown something at him.

“Sorry,” Danny said, though he didn’t really mean it and she knew it too, “but I prefer to keep my hair looking decent and _on my head_.”

She scowled at him. “I was only going to trim the hair that was touching your ears,” she objected sticking her tongue out at him. “Your hair wouldn’t be that short if I’d done it.”

Danny ignored the last comment. “Yeah, and cut off my ears.”

Ashlin snorted. “Keep the attitude up and I might,” she warned with a smug expression.

“I need those for listening to your father,” Danny said giving her a wary look. While it was meant to be a joke, it was true. The general didn’t seem to be very fond of him, and Danny sensed that it was a mutual feeling.

“Yeah, I know. Your listening skills are far from the greatest,” she quipped, offering him an innocent smile that wavered slightly with a grimace of pain. “I guess that’s why you really came down here, hm?” she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. She sounded disappointed.

He sighed as he nodded. “Yeah,” Danny said, finding himself looking away from her, unable to meet her gaze. “I wanted to thank you—”

Ashlin rolled her eyes. “Why? For getting you in? You didn’t even _want_ in,” she muttered with a glare, her golden eyes trying to make contact with his own eyes. “I did it so that if I _do_ finally heal, I can get what I wanted. Brandon can’t tell me no when I have someone to back me up.” She gave him an expectant look.

Danny cleared his throat and looked back at her guiltily. “Well, he _can_ say no.” He forced a grin, hoping that it was convincing. “But I’m sure you’ll do it anyway,” he sighed, never making eye contact with her. “And no, I wasn’t here to thank you for getting me in here. I was going to say thank you for taking me from the evil, evil farmer’s kid that I don’t really think was named Nicholas and getting me somewhere safe.”

“Safe?” She looked half amused. She was right to joke about it being ‘safe’ here. It wasn’t exactly the _safest_ place to be, but it was better than some places.

“Okay,” he said taking his words back, “Somewhat safe,” he rephrased rolling his eyes. “But really, I wouldn’t have lasted very long out at the farm, and so far I’ve managed a little over a month here,” Danny said, trying to sound grateful, though he didn’t think he sounded it when she didn’t look convinced. “I’ll make sure you can get in. I don’t care what your father says, or what anyone else says really. If you want to do it, I’m pretty sure you _can_ do it.”

She smiled feebly. “Only if I can actually walk,” she warned, the smile disappearing. “What’s the point in a soldier who has to be crutched, or wheeled around?”

“You could be our flagman!”

Had Danny been closer, she probably would have hit him. “I don’t think so,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll probably be confined to Brandon’s office. What a joy it’ll be in there,” she muttered. She rolled her eyes again with a snort.

“I’ll help you with that,” he promised. _It’s the least I can do after the stupid fire anyway_ , he added silently. He suspected that even if he didn’t help her, she would do it herself. She was determined enough to do whatever she pleased if she really wanted to do it.

She offered him a small, grateful smile, though doubt still clouded her yellow eyes. “Thanks,” she said, “Diane.” If her smile could have gotten wider, it would have.

Danny scowled at her and heaved a sigh. “Maybe I’ll tell you what it is after you get released from here, okay?” he muttered. While she _did_ deserve to know, he still was reluctant to give away that information. _But she does deserve to know_ , Danny’s conscience pressed. _She’s been through pretty terrible stuff lately._

Her golden eyes still gleamed in disappointment, but she nodded as eagerly as her burns would allow. “Pinky swear?” she inquired, the disappointment replacing itself with amusement. She moved her arm forward stiffly to reach forward and wrap her pinky around Danny’s. “Just don’t break that, or I’ll break you,” she said as she leaned back in her bed. “That’s a promise, not a warning.”

Danny scoffed good-naturedly. “Pinky promises are the most sincere swears of them all,” he said as solemnly as he could, all the while keeping a straight face. “If I break it, I give you all of the permission to beat the crap out of me as you please.” He made note in the back of his head that he needed to remember that. Being beat up by Ashlin wasn’t on his list of wants.

‡

For a long while, Danny sat in his room staring at the wall across from his makeshift bed-couch, wondering what General Stillwater was planning for his first day of training. From what he’d seen the other recruits doing, he didn’t feel too good about what the general would choose. Sharp objects flying at him at top speeds were not on his to-do-list right now. Or _ever_.

It turned out to only be dodge balls. For now. But Danny knew what was coming. Nice, sharp flying objects. At his face.

“ _Down_!” General Stillwater called as loudly as he could as he launched another ball in his direction. Danny didn’t move quick enough that time, or most of the time, before the ball caught him in the chest, knocking the breath out of him. “You need to move faster,” he declared, brown eyes gleaming in amusement.

 _I still don’t understand what the hell this has to do with training_ , Danny wanted to say, resisting the huge urge to roll his eyes at General Stillwater.

“Down!” he yelled again. This time, to Danny’s own stupidity, he watched the general’s hand. For some reason, Danny had it in his head that he would wait until he started moving. Instead, the moment the word was off his lips, the dodge ball was in the air. It hit him hard in the stomach. Danny swore he caught General Stillwater trying not to laugh at him, but the look vanished before he could actually figure it out. “You’re not moving fast enough,” he said bluntly, brown eyes locked on him, glinting in annoyance. “What were you practicing with Ashlin? Hugging the recruits and sewing?”

“No,” Danny muttered pulling at the edges of his black t-shirt with an icy glance at the general. “I’m pretty sure she made me do more than what the other recruits are doing,” he grumbled. He wanted to regret the words he said, but he knew that for the most part that it was true. The recruits could hardly figure out which way a gun pointed, or throw a decent punch.

The general raised his eyebrows, eyes gleaming dangerously. “If you think you’re so tough, you can train with the rest of them, hm?” he growled, jaw set as he stared at him intently.

“No, Sir,” Danny said half-heartedly, rolling his eyes. “Most of them have been training for months. I wouldn’t do well with them,” he sighed, hoping that he would leave it at that.

He eyed him suspiciously before lifting his arm to launch another dodge ball at him. “DOWN!” he yelled, the incident seemingly forgotten. He launched the ball at him again though Danny was unsure of where the man was aiming for exactly, but the ball caught him in the head right before he hit the ground. He wasn’t very good at this, and he also had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get good at it either. “You’re still not moving very fast,” he noted again, in a clipped voice. If he was trying to hide his temper from Danny, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

“No,” Danny agreed angrily, green eyes focused on the ground in front of him as he pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the pain searing through his head from the bump that the dodge ball had caused him. “But that’s _probably_ because this is my first day of training and I’ve _never_ done this before,” he muttered, looking up, but not daring to make eye contact with him.

He felt silent for a few moments, but the glare didn’t stop. Danny could feel his dark eyes burning into him. “Keep it up, boy,” he warned, “I can make you into a soldier, but I can’t fix that mouth of yours. If you don’t watch it, you’re going to end up dead before you even get to play soldier.”

 _Like I even want to_ , Danny thought to himself, almost saying the words aloud, which he guessed the general wouldn’t be too happy to hear about. “Mouth comes with the package, take it all, or don’t take any of it,” he snapped.

“You’ll learn,” the general sighed as he turned away from him, brown eyes glimmering in agitation. “We’ll try something else,” he added as he rolled his shoulders back. “Do you know how to hold a gun?” he inquired throwing a bored glance over his shoulder at Danny.

Danny shook his head with a grimace. He didn’t want to hold a gun, big or small, it didn’t make a difference. They could still kill. “No,” he muttered.

General Stillwater grumbled something under his breath that Danny didn’t catch, though he was certain it wasn’t about him doing something right. It hadn’t been so far. “Well, you’re going to have to learn,” he muttered as he pulled a pistol off the wall that had been behind him while he pummeled Danny to death with dodge balls. He handed him the gun gingerly. “Just… Don’t shoot yourself,” he sighed. “I hope you know how to at least shoot…”

 _Let’s take a wild guess…_ “Pull the trigger?” Danny asked dryly.

The general looked as if he wanted to smack Danny upside the head, but he restrained himself and watched as Danny raised the pistol to eyelevel. “I know you’re lying about your name,” he said suddenly, eyebrows furrowed.

Danny looked away from the pistol and back at the general with a questioning look. “What do you mean?” he asked, hoping he sounded convincing enough.

“Your real name isn’t James,” he said. “All those tests we ran? Your last name might be Richards. You might even be related to ‘James’, but _your_ name isn’t James.”

“My name _is_ James though,” Danny insisted, furrowing his own eyebrows.

“The tests tell me a different name,” the general said, his voice eerily calm.

“I’m not lying,” he protested. “My name is James Richards,” he said as he lowered the pistol. “Why would I give you a fake name?”

General Stillwater shrugged. “I don’t know _why_ you would give me a fake name, but you did. Do I need to show you the DNA results? I can assure you that those don’t lie, especially when they’re all from different samples and _still_ coming up under another name. All the _same_ name.”

“I don’t see why it matters whether I used a fake name or not. Maybe this is the name I want to go by now,” he said irritably. “So what if that was my name then?”

The general’s shoulders relaxed, knowing he’d won. He paced back toward him and plucked the gun out of his hands. “So what is it then?” he inquired.

For a short moment, Danny was sure that the general was going to shoot him, but he realized that he was only threatening him. Ashlin wouldn’t be impressed with him if he shot him. _If you already know, why does it matter?_ “Daniel,” he spat, upper lip twitching angrily. “Daniel Jensen Richards,” he said coldly. “Don’t you dare tell Ashlin,” Danny growled.

General Stillwater raised his eyebrows in amusement at the empty threat. “Oh, I wouldn’t _dream_ of it. I know what you promised her,” he said, brown eyes taunting. “Go back to your room and enjoy your free time. I’ve got things to do.”

‡

 _Get up_. The words echoed in Jesse’s mind several times before he finally forced himself to roll off his bed and stretch. Today was the day. Today was the day that he finally carried out his plan. Running away.

He had never run away before. He’d _thought_ about it quite a few times, but he never got far into packing before he would think back on what his parents would think of him. He didn’t want to disappoint them. But now he didn’t exactly have to worry about that. They were dead, and he couldn’t disappoint dead people, could he?

 He looked out his window in hope that the weather would be in his favor today. He knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t get far if it was storming. Pepper would make sure of that. And if he wasn’t on horseback, he wasn’t going to get far. At least for now it looked decent out with only a few clouds dotting the sky, nothing that would he couldn’t deal with. Pepper, on the other hand, would probably have something different to say about that.

Jesse hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans that were nearly falling apart and threw on a grey t-shirt before slinging a small bag over his shoulder. He threw one last look back at his bed over his shoulder. This would be the last time he slept in that bed hopefully. He turned his gaze back to his window, lifted it without another thought, and hopped out of it, landing heavily on his feet at the base of his window.

With a nervous glance back at the house, he walked lightly on his feet toward the stables.

‡

Pepper _would_ have been the one to make the noise. The moment Jesse neared the stable Pepper had started up, neighing to the high heavens and stamping his feet so loud that he wondered if the people on the other side of the earth could feel him. Not that any of that was out of the normal. Pepper was very good at ruining plans. Jesse prayed that Will didn’t hear his rambunctious horse as he attempted to saddle him. Even with the small treat of a carrot Jesse had brought with him didn’t calm the Warlander. Pepper knew what was going on and he didn’t like it.

“Say goodbye, Peps,” he murmured quietly as he led his horse out of the stables by his reigns. The horse shook his head out in protest as Jesse continued to tug on the lead. Pepper had it in his head that he wasn’t leaving.

Jesse pulled himself onto Pepper’s back and gave one final look over his shoulder at the small brick house before squeezing the Warlander’s sides, urging him forward. Reluctantly the black stallion stepped forward, slowly and steadily until he reached a gallop with the house slowly disappearing on the horizon.

‡

They went on for what seemed like eons. It was dusk by the time that Jesse finally slid off Pepper’s back and allowed the horse to drink from the little pool by the small camp that Jesse had attempted to make for them. It wasn’t much, but they weren’t going to stay long—only for the night if he could help it. Jesse was sure that he’d ridden east of the stables, but he wasn’t absolutely sure. He only hoped that he didn’t end up running back into it the next day. Knowing Will, he would already be in a frenzy looking for Jesse. The thought made Jesse’s heart fill with guilt. Will would be worried sick about him, and he hadn’t even left him a note, not a single thing saying where he’d gone. It would be pay back for all the times Will pestered him about going back to the base when he already knew that Jesse didn’t want to leave. But it didn’t make him feel any better.

By the same time tomorrow, Jesse could be double the distance away from the house with at least fifty miles between Will and Jesse. Food and water would be the only problem for him now. He was more concerned about the food and water for Pepper than he was for himself. He could go longer without any of that, but Pepper couldn’t.

Jesse ate what little he took with him before curling up beside his pack and falling asleep almost instantly.

‡

He woke in the morning to Pepper impatiently stamping the ground near his head. Groggily, he pushed himself to his feet with a tired sigh. “What?” he mumbled blinking at the horse sleepily. It couldn’t have been past six in the morning. The Warlander whinnied at him and stamped the ground again. Jesse yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “Fine… We’ll leave in a bit. Hold on,” he muttered stretching his arms out before scratching the top of his head.

He gathered the supplies that he had pulled from his pack the night before and stuffed it back in without any sort of order before strapping it to Pepper’s back, which took at least fifteen minutes. At first, Pepper wouldn’t allow him to get near him, constantly stamping his hooves every time he got within two feet of him, and then he attempted to bite him several times. Finally, Jesse calmed him down enough to strap the pack on without Pepper trying to nip at him.

They made decent time for the most part. Pepper was completely against galloping, or even trotting most of the time. He only walked, bothering Jesse quite a bit. He was supposed to be leaving the farm as quickly as he could, not letting Pepper take his sweet time because the horse felt like being temperamental. If Pepper kept up the way he was, Will was probably going to catch up to him.

“Woah,” Jesse murmured gently as he patted the black stallion’s mane, his ocean blue eyes flickering across the horizon in disbelief. The Warlander came to a halt and tried to look back at his rider. Jesse slid off the horse’s back, still holding onto the reign tightly so Pepper couldn’t bolt.

Ahead of them was the first field that he’d seen since he was fourteen. And it was ablaze.

‡

Jesse took a few steps forward, Pepper hesitating behind him. “ _Oh Mon Dieu_ ,” he murmured, ocean blue eyes repeatedly skimming over the fire in disbelief. As much as he hated the fields and everything that they stood for, this was his last wish for them. There were innocent people working in those fields, or at least there had been. He wasn’t sure how many people would be left after this.

Pepper jerked his head back, yanking on the reign as if to say, _Let’s get out of here_ , but Jesse didn’t want to leave. He knew exactly who had set this fire and he hated him for it. John was the bane of his family to anyone who opposed him and possibly anyone who worked for or with him. And it made him angry.

“Peps, hold on,” he said gently to the Warlander before taking a few more steps forward. If he didn’t have Pepper with him, he would have tried to go into the fields and look for anyone who might have been alive. But his horse was spooked by the simplest of things—mostly things that would keep him from helping others—, so he decided against it with a heavy heart. He turned back to his stallion and patted his muzzle. “All right, you win,” he murmured as he climbed onto the horse’s back again. “Let’s go,” he said gently to the horse before squeezing his sides a little with his legs, setting Pepper into a slow trot.

‡

“Jess! It’s time for breakfast!” Will called from the kitchen as he set a plate of pancakes out on the counter before rounding it and heading toward Jesse’s bedroom. “Jesse?” he asked, “C’mon, Jess, it’s time to get up. I’ve got food out on the…”

He opened the door to find his younger brother’s bed empty. He stopped in his tracks, blinking furiously. “Jesse?” he asked again, this time softer. No response. Will slowly treaded over the dark wood floor in Jesse’s room, but found no trace of him. _He’s got to be here somewhere_ , Will told himself as he turned back to the hallway.

Will’s next stop was the stables. His heart nearly stopped when he found Pepper gone as well. “Please be here,” he muttered under his breath offering a sympathetic look at Charlie who watched him cross the stables. “Have you seen them, _petit cheval_?” he asked Charlie, though he knew he wouldn’t get any answers from the horse. He sighed as he walked back toward the stable doors. “He’s gone,” he mumbled, closing his blue eyes squeezing his hand tightly with the other in an attempt to calm himself. Of course, that was useless.

He shook his head as he walked back toward the house, forming fists repeatedly as he tried to think of the places that Jesse could have gone.


	6. Chapter 6

 

“Slowly,” Danny told Ashlin as she stumbled across the infirmary room. It had been nearly two months since his training had begun and Ashlin was finally learning how to walk again. It amazed him. Sure, she would get frustrated—which was actually adorable, but he would never admit that for the fear of his life—but she walked. And fell. But they both knew that it was going to take time to get back to where she was. Most of her burns had healed though they left plenty of scars in their places. Ashlin didn’t seem to mind it though. What she _did_ mind was being able to walk again.

She stumbled into him, Danny caught her—barely—, and managed to keep his balance before they could crash to the floor. She sighed and pushed herself away from him with an annoyed glint in her tawny eyes. “This is so tiring,” she mumbled putting her hand on his shoulder for support, her eyes flashing up at him in irritation.

“Maybe if you didn’t fall,” he said with a small teasing smile, “you wouldn’t be so tired.”

She scowled at him. “Shut up, Diane,” she grumbled as she started to stagger back toward her bed in the infirmary.

The doctors were amazed that she was walking after they’d told them that she probably wouldn’t walk again with the amount of burns she’d sustained to her legs. She’d _almost_ lost them. But Ashlin ignored what they said and proved them wrong. She rarely left the infirmary, and when she did she was confined to a wheelchair—which was highly against her will, but she had no choice. Soon, they informed her, she would be allowed to return to her own room. She had been very excited about since it meant no more worrying doctors rushing around her. But that wheelchair would still be there to haunt her.

“James,” Danny corrected sticking his tongue out at her, still smiling.

“Diane,” she echoed, golden eyes challenging him to say otherwise. He voted against it, but said nothing. “Diane until I’m released,” she said with the same smug smile that her father had. He would never point that out, not with living on the agenda.

He sighed, giving up on that argument. It was a battle he couldn’t win on any day. “Fine,” he huffed. They both fell silent for a moment. “When do you think you’ll be able to train?” he asked. He hoped it would be soon. Danny didn’t know how much more training with General Stillwater he could take alone.

“So you can _try_ to beat me?” she laughed, eyes brightening. “As soon as I can keep my balance,” Ashlin said, “which could be a day or two. Training should help my balance too.” She sat on her bed stiffly and sighed. “I’ll be training with you,” she said, making a face as if it were a bad thing.

“Oh, it won’t be too bad,” he grinned around his hand as he gnawed on his nails, “I’ll probably be beaten to death anyway.”

“Yeah! That’s no fun! I don’t want to fight someone who doesn’t fight back!” she complained flopping back on her bed with a sigh of the air forced out of her lungs. That probably wasn’t good for her, but Danny decided if he tried to tell her that, she’d have his ears on a platter.

“You’ll be surprised,” he promised looking up at her from his hand. “And if I’m wrong, well, I’ll be beaten to a pulp.” He shrugged his shoulders with a snort of amusement.

“Then _I’ll_ have to train alone,” she pointed out. “And you’ll be stuck here.” From where he was sitting, he couldn’t see her face, but he could almost feel her smile. “And I can promise you that it’s not fun sitting in here,” she sighed.

“My definition of ‘fun’ is different than yours,” Danny chuckled as he put his arm on the armrest of the plastic-y chair. “If I can get away from training, that’s fun.” If he could get away from her father in general, it was a good day.

There was a knock on the door, making Ashlin jump, before one of the doctors walked in, almost ignoring Ashlin. “Ashlin, there’s someone here to see you.” The doctor’s eyes flickered to Danny. “You too.”

“Who?” Danny asked as he pushed himself to his feet and walked toward Ashlin who was pushing herself off the bed. He was confused. He didn’t get visitors. He didn’t have friends or family to see him.

“That’s for you to find out,” the doctor said stiffly as if the person wasn’t really worth his time and then he turned to leave the room.

Pursing his lips, he led Ashlin out of the room after the doctor. “Who do you think it is?” he asked her. Danny couldn’t think of anyone who would want to see them, him especially.

“Maybe it’s the President,” she joked shaking her head, sending her dark hair with blonde roots now everywhere.

“Definitely,” he said sarcastically as he rolled his forest green eyes at her. “Has he come to tell me that I’m a pathetic child and that I should go home?” Danny fell silent for a moment, waiting for her to answer him sarcastically. “Oh, crap, wait. I don’t _have_ a home.” He laughed, but it hurt. It wasn’t a lie, he had no true home now.

Ashlin laughed too, but he had a feeling that she knew he meant that he really didn’t have a home. “All the best people don’t have homes,” she said with a smile.

“ _Some_ people,” he interjected, holding an index finger up in objection. “ _Some_ people turn out pretty bad.” They turned the corner and almost ran into one of the nurses, causing Ashlin to nearly fall over.

“But _some_ people turn out okay,” Ashlin said after catching herself, looking winded. “Whoever it is better have a good reason to be dragging me out of my room,” she muttered heaving a sigh with a very, very murderous glint in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s a perfectly good reason,” someone said ahead of them. The ‘someone’ was a young man who couldn’t have been much older than Danny, dressed in a suit and a tie with his dark hair brushed back in an attempt to look professional. “It’s good to see you walking,” he said with a gentle smile in Ashlin’s direction.

“Will!” she exclaimed after realizing who it was. “What are you doing here?” she inquired curiously with her head tilted to the side in question.

“Exploring as of the moment,” he said as he strode forward and hugged Ashlin tightly—that couldn’t be good for Ashlin’s health. “I’m guessing you’re Mister James Richards?” he inquired at last when he pulled away from Ashlin. He held out a hand for him to shake.

“Yep,” Danny said as he shook his hand, feeling a little confused. “And you are…?” he inquired, trying to sound somewhat interested when he was mostly confused and a little annoyed.

“William Murray,” he said with a grin—dear God why wouldn’t he stop smiling? “Family friend of the Stillwaters’ I still work with her father on occasion.”

“He has friends?” Danny said with an eyebrow raised in slight confusion and amusement. Brandon Stillwater didn’t seem like the kind of person to have many friends.

“Well, my mother’s friends, not his.” Ashlin laughed at his confusion. “I’ve not seen Will since I was eleven, probably because Brandon wouldn’t let him visit.”

“First name basis now, huh?” Will murmured, his ocean blue eyes full of concern.

Ashlin nodded, but ignored it to the best of her abilities. “Why are you here?” she asked again, changing the subject, her golden-yellow eyes fixed on the floor.

“Jesse’s missing.” Nobody said a word. “He’s my brother,” he clarified for Danny, who must have looked confused enough that Will felt the need to clear it up for him. “I thought he might have come here, but so far I’ve not found anything of him,” he sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat. He had sounded so happy to see Ashlin only moments ago, now he seemed as if all the life had been drained out of him. Danny felt bad for him. He knew the feeling of missing a sibling and it wasn’t very nice.

“When’d you last see him?” Danny asked curiously when Ashlin said nothing. There had been several new recruits since Danny had been processed in, but he didn’t remember anyone by the name of Jesse. It was the least he could do to help.

“Two months ago,” he said biting his lip, his joy and brightness completely gone. “At first I thought he had run to the city, but they never found him there… He’s been here, so it would be familiar to him. I thought it would make sense for him to come here…” He shook his head with a sigh.

“Maybe he was sent to the fields,” Ashlin suggested almost against her will. She didn’t sound too entertained by that idea.

“Maybe,” Will sighed. “Brandon won’t let me look yet though,” he continued. “He said he’ll have the farmers look for him,” he muttered. That didn’t sound like a very good idea to Danny, but that was Brandon. “Anyway, I need to speak with Brandon real quick. I’ll catch up with you later, all right?” Ashlin nodded as he hugged her again. “It was nice meeting you, James,” he said before he hurried away.

“He was…a bit cheery,” Danny said with the straightest face he could manage.

“When you don’t come from around here, you usually are,” she said turning to face him with a grin. “You’re just weird,” she laughed. “C’mon, I’m ready to go back to my room.” She grabbed him by his arm and started to drag him toward the infirmary.

“How about food?” he inquired stopping in his tracks, making Ashlin stumble.

“That means the wheelchair,” she grumbled giving him a murderous glare as if the wheelchair was the worst insult he could offer. “You’re insane if you think I want to go in that thing,” she growled.

“No, you can walk if you want. I’ll catch you,” he promised. “Or carry you if I have to,” Danny grinned, wondering if he could actually carry her.

“I’ll just crawl there,” she decided jokingly with a smile in his direction and then sighed. “Fine, we’ll get food. But if I pass out—”

“Yeah. My fault. You’ll beat me up,” Danny finished in mock boredom but ended up laughing. “I know. My life is at risk.”

Walking down to the cafeteria was… Interesting. Ashlin constantly was pushing herself to hard and nearly falling over, or _purposely_ falling just so Danny would have to rush to catch her. Danny swore she wanted him to hurt himself to keep herself from falling. When they finally reached the terribly small cafeteria she decided Danny would get her food—which he kind of agreed since he didn’t want her falling face first into the food.

She wasn’t very impressed by his food selection. Maybe Danny had an issue with muffins. But she _knew_ he liked them, and it wasn’t like she was incapable of telling him what she wanted in the first place. No, instead she told him to go crazy, which translated to Danny as _muffins_.

“Seriously?” she demanded as Danny set a plate of muffins on the table in front of her. “James, people eat more than just muffins. I hope you get fat.”

“Terrifying,” he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin as Danny sat down beside her heavily. “With the amount of training I get, there’s no way I could get fat,” he declared grabbing for another muffin. “It’s not my problem that you don’t like muffins.”

“I _do_ like muffins. I _don’t_ like eating them all the time,” she muttered with a sideways glare at Danny. She picked up a muffin and eyed it suspiciously. When she decided that it was safe to eat, she nibbled on it.

“Be a man.”

“I’m a _girl_ ,” she said rolling her eyes as she took another bite of the muffin. “Plus men don’t eat the same thing _every_ day.”

“No,” Danny agreed with a smile around the muffin, “but they don’t complain about it.”

“You’re not a real man then,” she noted and grinned at him. “Too whiny.”

He scowled at her good-naturedly. “But I don’t complain about food, now do I?”

“No idea. I’ve only ever seen you eat muffins.”

“I’m the muffin man,” he laughed before he took a bite of the muffin.

“The muffin man is fat,” she pointed out.

“Maybe _your_ version,” Danny said running his free hand through his dark hair absentmindedly. “But do I look fat?” Danny challenged as he took another bite of the muffin.

“You’re going to be,” she said, her tone serious as she took the last bite of her muffin. “I’m going to get _real_ food,” she muttered pushing herself away from the table. Danny didn’t bother getting up, mostly because she would try to get him other food. That and he wasn’t risking his safety—Ashlin was already annoyed that he watched her so much already.

She came back with toast, bacon—which took up most of her plate—and scrambled eggs, though he assumed were no longer warn a minute or two later. “Hungry?” Danny inquired, eyebrows winged up in amusement.

“For anything but muffins,” she replied before sitting down stiffly beside him, making him feel guilty for dragging her down here.

“Question. That kid Will was talking about, do you know him?” he asked curiously as he picked up another muffin and peered over it.

“Jesse?” she inquired with a raised eyebrow as she took a bite of the bacon. “Yeah, he’s a couple months older than me. I didn’t really see much of him. He kind of kept to himself,” she continued with a shrug of her shoulders. Danny had a feel there was more to it than that, but she wasn’t saying. “Haven’t seen him since I last saw Will.”

“Did he seem like the type to run away?” Danny asked feeling a little self-conscious asking all the questions. He hated questions. He was more of the action-y type. Shoot first ask later.

“Not really,” she said as she looked up at him. “Why?”

“Do you think it’s possible he was kidnapped?” Danny inquired. It was a good idea, but he didn’t know how many kidnappings really went on out in the Phoenix area.

She opened her mouth as if she was about to argue, but then shut it as if she realized that it was possible. “Could be, yeah. But I think Will already thought about that. Plus, I’m not sure it’s really kidnapping at eighteen.”

“Personnapped,” Danny corrected himself rolling his eyes as he leaned over the somewhat clean table. “And it wouldn’t hurt to suggest it to him,” he added. “He may not have thought of it yet. We don’t know that.”

“We don’t, but we’re not suggesting unless he comes to us. I don’t want to get in his way,” Ashlin said through a mouthful of cold eggs that made him inwardly cringe.

Danny didn’t understand why she didn’t want to get involved with whoever this Jesse was. Someone was _missing_ —not to mention it was someone she knew. Maybe she didn’t like him, or maybe she didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It wouldn’t be in the city, not to most people. But out here, he figured that it was more uncommon.

“Okay,” Danny muttered. “Do you not like him or something?” he inquired, his green eyes flickering toward her and then back to his muffin before she had a chance to kill him with her murderous glare.

“It’s not my business,” she stated around another mouthful of cold eggs.

“You are _friends_ ,” Danny scoffed, feeling quite confused. “You’re not a very good friend if you’re not even worried about them,” Danny mumbled. He was beginning to wonder if she would try to look for him if _he_ went missing.

“I hardly knew him,” Ashlin pointed out harshly.

“So?” Some friend she was. “What person doesn’t care about a missing person?” he inquired, trying to get her to see his point, which obviously wasn’t working well in his favor.

“This person,” she said, pointing back at herself with her thumb as she rolled her eyes. She didn’t meet Danny’s gaze. “Look, James, it’s not our business. I’m not getting into it.”

Her words were final, which should’ve ended the conversation, except Danny wasn’t leaving it until he got an answer. “Why?”

Her tawny-yellow eyes fixed on his own green eyes as she set her fork down stiffly by her plate. “They didn’t care about my mother,” she snapped, eyes flaring angrily. “They never came to her funeral, and they didn’t try to help around here at all.” She fell silent for a few moments, then picked her fork up and continued to eat in silence.

“Oh…” Danny mumbled, wishing he hadn’t asked. He felt even guiltier for asking. To him, she’d never seemed the type to hold grudges. Apparently he’d been wrong. “I’m sorry—”

“For what?” she demanded, her voice cold and harsh, a big reminder that she was definitely Brandon Stillwater’s daughter. “For two stupid boys not being respectful?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes over her eggs again.

Danny really wished he hadn’t asked. It obviously was a bad topic for her. “For asking,” he told her as he stood up. He picked up the plate of muffins that remained and threw them away, his appetite gone. “Ready to go?” he asked. He was afraid she would snap at him again, but instead she just nodded and pushed her plate away from her.

When they arrived in the infirmary, they were informed that Ashlin was going to be released. She seemed happy enough about that, but Danny knew she was still upset about the conversation earlier. They gave her a wheelchair, which he doubted helped her mood. She stared at it venomously as she signed several papers for her release. He suspected she wouldn’t even use the wheelchair, but she walked beside it without a word.

They made him take her back to her room—quite literally forced him to do it—which Ashlin really didn’t appreciate at all. She was complaining the whole way back about the wheelchair, which was what he expected to happen. Danny wasn’t even sure why they made him take her to her room in the first place. He had no idea where it even was. Ashlin had to keep telling him which way to turn so he could find it.

When they got there, Ashlin was about ready to pass out due to all the walking she’d been doing since she’d gotten up that morning. Danny was with her on that idea. He was exhausted too. He had been up since five that morning for more training with Brandon—which wasn’t a great idea, since neither of them got along. He made sure Ashlin got into her room all right and then headed back to his own room in high hopes he could crash.

Except he didn’t. He was pretty sure his brain didn’t recognize the word _sleep_ anymore. The moment his head touched his pillow his brain decided he actually didn’t want to sleep. For the next half-hour or so, Danny just laid there attempting to sleep. He tried counting sheep, though he didn’t have high hopes in that department.

Danny wasn’t sure when, but he fell asleep at some point, though he was certain it was out of pure boredom rather than actual exhaustion. And he swore only five minutes later someone knocked on his door. He made a mental note to get a “do not disturb” sign and hang it on the outside of his door.

It was Will. Danny really wanted to smack him for waking him up, but he let Will speak, mostly because the expression he wore was halfway between relief and dismay.

“They think they might have found Jesse,” he told him, though Danny wasn’t sure why Will hadn’t gone to Ashlin. Will and Danny hardly knew each other, and he certainly didn’t feel close to Will. “They think he’s in the fields.” His voice cracked, whether it was from relief or disbelief, Danny couldn’t tell.

Danny rubbed his forehead roughly as he thought it over. “He’s okay, right?” he asked suspiciously. To Danny, it sounded like Will was trying to tell him that Jesse was hurt, or at least that’s what it sounded like to him.

Will nodded, biting his bottom lip anxiously; he was a pretty bad liar. “Yeah,” he sighed shakily. “He just… they don’t know if it’s him.”

“They’ll let you know,” Danny told him, wishing he sounded comforting. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at that. He _hoped_ they would let Will know soon. Danny couldn’t imagine himself worrying about Hunter being lost again. Not that he would have to, since he was dead now.

Will snorted in annoyance. “When has Brandon ever let anyone know something they should probably know?” he scoffed. He made a good point. “If he let me know _anything_ , I’d be surprised.”

“True,” he said nodding and almost smiling, but he stopped himself when he realized that it was not the situation to be smiling in. “Tell Ashlin and I’m sure she’ll get them to see what they can do. Not now though, she’s sleeping.”

Will shook his head. “She’ll kill me,” he muttered.

“Alright, I’ll tell her then,” Danny sighed. He swore that every other male on this base was terrified of Ashlin, which was within reason—somewhat. “Just don’t say anything to Brandon.”

Will didn’t seem to like that, but he nodded anyway. “Okay, thank you, James.”

It took him a moment, but Danny corrected him, almost against his will. “It’s Danny,” he said, which earned him a confused look from Will, but he didn’t ask any questions before disappearing down the hall.

‡

“You’re slower than the other recruits,” Brandon informed him, his brow creased in annoyance, and possibly anger and anything else that went with those two emotions.

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder,” Danny grumbled. He was looking over test results and comparing his own results with the other recruits scores. It annoyed him that Brandon was comparing him to them when he was only three months into his training and most of them had been there months longer than him.

The general’s brown eyes lingered on him for a moment. “You won’t get a position,” he said as he looked back at the results. “So I would suggest working harder.”

“I would suggest not trying my patience,” Danny muttered. He knew that he shouldn’t have said it, but he didn’t care at that moment. He was tired of the general being rude to him about everything he did, whether he did it well or not.

“You wanted into this and you agreed to it,” he said sternly as he set the results on his desk in a stack. “So you’re going to fix your attitude and get better scores or you can go back to the fields.” He signed the paper quickly and looked back up to him. “You’re dismissed, Daniel.” Danny had a feeling that he liked using his full name since he hated it and it annoyed him when anyone called him that. He flinched at his words, green eyes glinting angrily. “Be back for training tomorrow at six.”

“I will,” Danny said stiffly as he left Brandon’s office. He didn’t really understand how his results were as bad as they were. He trained harder and more often than most of the other recruits. Maybe Brandon was purposely grading him badly, or maybe Danny really was that bad and refused to believe it. But after training for three months and hardly ever missing the objective he had a feeling that Brandon had it out for him.

‡

“So… About that promise?” Ashlin grinned innocently at him as she pushed her hair behind her ears to get it out of her eyes.

Danny _had_ promised her, but he had forgotten about it up until now. “If you promise not to laugh,” he said hardly keeping himself from laughing at what he was about to say. She nodded solemnly. “It’s Diane.”

She burst out laughing with her eyes squeezed shut and her head thrown back, a huge smile spread across her lips. “L-Liar!” she squealed, her yellow eyes dancing in amusement as she tried to tell him how much of a liar he was, but she never managed to get more than ‘liar’ out.

“No, no,” Danny said shaking his head with a smile, his hands up in surrender. “You caught me. My name really is Diane.”

She shook her head still laughing. “I think I like Liar better. It suits you,” she said grinning.

Danny stuck his tongue out at her. “So, if I tell you my real name you’ll call me that instead of Diane?” He doubted that would happen. Not with Ashlin.

“Well, that’s for me to decide.”

 _Thought as much_. He sighed, rolling his forest green eyes. “It’s Daniel,” he said.

“Seriously? How did I miss that name?” she complained throwing her hands up in disbelief as she nearly collapsed on the couch.

 _You_ did _say it_ , he almost said, but bit the words back. “’Cause it was right there in your face,” Danny beamed, eyes gleaming brightly. “Brandon already knew. He knew I was lying.” He was afraid that she might hit him.

“Yeah? We’re not stupid, _Diane_ ,” she said giggling when she called him the other name. “You don’t go by Daniel, do you?” she inquired cocking her head to the side with her hair falling across her face.

Danny shook his head, his own dark brown hair falling in his eyes. “No, I apparently go by Diane,” he said biting his lip in an attempt not to laugh.

She sighed. “You know what I meant,” she grumbled sitting upright again.

“Danny,” he answered grudgingly. “I’m counting on everyone who knows me as James to murder me.” He swung his legs over the side of the couch. Ashlin had literally dragged him—by his hair—to her room so she could ask him about his name and his test results—which still hadn’t come up yet, and he hoped she wouldn’t ask either—but mostly his name. It was a little unnecessary, but Danny wasn’t sure what to expect with her.

“Starting with me?” she inquired with a raised eyebrow. “Because I can arrange that,” she promised with a not-so-innocent grin. “Did Brandon tell you I’ll be training soon?”

“Does Brandon tell me _anything_?” Danny muttered shaking his head again. “Dear Lord, now you’ll have a gun,” he said with mock terror, his eyes wide as he tried to fake his fear. “You’re already plotting my death. That’s great!” He laughed, and for the first time in a while, it wasn’t forced.

“It’s got safety on it,” she protested scowling at him. “Plus, I don’t shoot people who double as my leverage.” She twirled a strand of hair around her index finger innocently. “But… Once you’re no longer my leverage…” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Oh, yay,” he sighed. “Promise me that you won’t put me in the hospital?” Instead, it would be the grave; Danny decided not to laugh about that one.

“If Brandon tells me to do something, I’m doing it,” she warned, her tone going from amusement to sincere all within a few seconds. “Save killing,” she amended, “You’re going to have to man up and hit a girl,” she said, but he got the feeling she knew he still wouldn’t hit her intentionally. “Real men follow orders,” she snorted.

“Real men don’t hit girls,” Danny countered sticking his tongue out at her again as he leaned back against her couch, relaxing. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had a real conversation about random nothings. “Nor do they complain about food, no matter how much they might despise muffins.” He smiled when she laughed at that. “This, of course, makes me—”

“No, you’re too whiny,” she interrupted with a hand nearly on his face as she tried to silence him before he could finish his sentence. “I fear the only real man on this death base is Brandon.” She was partially right about that. To Danny it seemed that Brandon stood for everything he believed in, even if it meant doing something he didn’t want to do. Maybe he was rude and annoying sometimes, but he did as he needed.

“What about Will?” Danny suggested as he shifted himself on the uncomfortable couch.

“That boy complains about nearly everything there is to complain about,” Ashlin grumbled rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I’m going to fix my hair… So if you don’t mind…” She trailed off looking at him with another one of her sweet-but-not-so-sweet smiles. “I mean, unless you want me to dye and cut your hair. It could use a trim.”

“ _Don’t_ touch my hair,” Danny said getting to his feet and covering his ears for protection. “Or my ears.” She laughed as she pushed herself off the couch stiffly.

“Don’t worry, it’s not _me_ that’ll be touching your hair. That’ll be the scissors,” Ashlin grinned, her tawny-golden eyes dancing in amusement. “All right, now get out.”


	7. Chapter 7

Daniel was late to training that evening, which annoyed Brandon. A lot. The boy might not respect him, but the least he could do was be on time like everyone else. He didn’t understand why the boy had acquired such a hatred for him. The rest of his soldiers might not have liked him, but they knew how to hold their tongues, which was something Daniel did not know how to do, and yet Brandon liked it. Someone like him could be useful in helping to pull out the felons and criminals lurking in the cities. But he already knew that the boy would refuse anything like that. He’d seen his records. Both of his parents murdered. Left his younger brother to go to the Academy. How Daniel had even managed to get himself kicked out of the Academy, Brandon had no idea. Somehow the boy had been sent away and ended up in his hands.

Brandon could hardly understand Daniel’s frustration, and he knew that he certainly wasn’t helping the matter, but he would have to learn. He had to learn. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t last long, he would never be promoted in the military and would be tossed out just like he had been with his stay at the Academy. If Daniel was released from the military, Brandon didn’t what the boy had left for him, but he figured it wouldn’t be much. So he pushed him. He pushed him a lot harder than the rest of his soldiers to keep him from failing out.

When Daniel finally showed up, he had him demonstrate the skills he had learned over the last three months. The boy had definitely grown since then. He was a little taller, and a lot more muscle as well. When Brandon had first seen the boy he had been a scrawny little thing, no clue how to hold a gun, he could hardly land a hard punch. Now he could land almost any punch he threw, and while his aim was still subpar, he handled the weapon deftly. The one thing that hadn’t changed was his attitude. He could live with that, but he knew the other officers wouldn’t appreciate Danny’s penchant for witty remarks.

“Ashlin, would you mind demonstrating how to shoot since he’s yet to learn?” he inquired, ignoring the icy look Daniel was giving him.

Ashlin nodded as she pulled a smaller pistol off the wall, loaded it, and shot the target across the room without warning, making Daniel jump. Brandon smirked as Ashlin tossed the pistol to him. “Good,” he said. “Daniel, show her you… Amazing… Skills,” he muttered, trailing off as he handed him the gun.

Daniel took a deep breath, fired at the target, and missed, which didn’t surprise Brandon one bit. Ashlin tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. Daniel scowled at her, but there was something about how he held himself that told Brandon he wasn’t truly upset with her.

“Okay, so you really need to practice that,” Ashlin sighed with the shake of her head, carelessly plucking the gun from his hands. “You’re not holding it steady is your problem. You’re overthinking it.” She faced him, the gun pointed at him, her expression inscrutable. Daniel, on the other hand, was staring back at her with wide eyes. “And you have to hold it in both hands. Sure, one-handed looks cool but if you can’t stop shaking, you’re going to shoot your foot. And I’m going to laugh.”

“I will not,” Daniel objected as Ashlin pulled the trigger, the bullet rushed past Daniel’s face, narrowly missing it, which left him staring at her with annoyed glint in his eyes.

“Now, if you were to do that, you would either shoot it five feet to the side of my head, or actually shoot me _in_ the head,” Ashlin snorted as she lowered the pistol. “Let’s see your fighting,” she suggested tossing Brandon the gun. Daniel brought his fists up to his face in a defense stance and steadied his balance, which would have looked good if Ashlin hadn’t been standing beside him. Years upon years of practice would always make her look superior. “C’mon, you can hit me,” she sighed, using her tactic of taunting.

He still looked uncertain about hitting Ashlin, but he landed the punch in her ribcage—none too hard, but hard enough to show that he was trying. Brandon’s daughter smile as she dodged one of his fists and grabbed his other wrist.

“Never let yourself think you’re better,” she grinned, tawny eyes lingering on his face for hardly more than a second, “because I’ll make you regret it.” She twisted his arm, which made him twist into her in an attempt to keep her from spraining his wrist. Ashlin locked his head into the nook of her arm with a smug grin. “You get too distracted, but you’re good,” she said she released him.

Daniel stumbled forward and scoffed as he turned to face them again. “It’ll be different in a real fight,” he grumbled as he glanced at Brandon. “Can I be done?” he inquired, annoyance lingering in his forest green eyes. Brandon knew how much Daniel hated being taught drills he already knew, but he wasn’t going to let him get out of it this easily.

“Not until you beat Ashlin,” Brandon said, his brown eyes challenging him to try to leave.

Daniel glared back at him for a short moment, his green eyes burning in fury. “Fine,” he muttered. Brandon knew that Daniel didn’t want to do it, but the only thing that seemed to get through to him was force. He sighed deeply and then turned his attention back to Ashlin. She stood there, poised with a dangerous smile, waiting for him to make his move.

“Beat her and you can be done for the day.”

“Alright,” Danny muttered, brow furrowed in concentration. With any of the other recruits, beating their opponent in order to be done for the day would have been a given. With Daniel it seemed to be too much to ask for.

He positioned his body to match hers and raised his fists as he swayed, ready to move if Ashlin swung out at him. Ashlin smiled slyly and raised her own fists, blocking her face. Breathing in and out slowly, he waited for her to make the first move. She threw a punch, aiming for his ribcage as he had before, but instead of catching her like Ashlin had done with him, he sidestepped and whirled around and swung at her torso. She stumbled backwards, giving Daniel the room he needed to sweep kick her knees, forcing her to crumble to the floor mats. He pinned Ashlin there with an annoyed grin, which she mirrored with a tad bit of surprise.

“Am I done now?” he asked looking up at Brandon, his eyes piercing. Hesitantly, Brandon nodded and watched as Daniel stalked out of the training room with his hands balled into loose fists at his sides.

‡

“Jeffrey, I want you to come to the training session for Daniel and Ashlin tomorrow,” Brandon said as he sat down at his large, round dark oaken table with a ham sandwich in hand beside Captain Darling.

The captain looked up from his own lunch and raised his eyebrow with a snort of amusement. “You want me to come down and see the kid who doesn’t know how to mind his manners?” he muttered as he looked up at the general for a short moment before looking back at his food realizing that it was an order and not a suggestion. “All right,” he sighed in agitation. “I’ll be down there. What time?”

“Noon, hopefully. But knowing Daniel, he’ll be there late. His lack of manners come with the disability of time telling.”

Darling muttered something under his breath that Brandon didn’t catch, and ignored the deathly glare that he gave him. “Why do you even like that boy so much?” he grumbled, his grey eyes fixed on the general again.

Brandon turned his head away from the captain and found himself staring at the picture of Jessica, Ashlin and himself. “He reminds me of Jessica,” he admitted quietly. He hated thinking about his wife. It always brought back painful memories. “He’s a teenager, he’s going to be rude. How many of the recruits are just as bad as him, but they keep it amongst themselves?” he inquired with raised eyebrows.

Darling grunted as he rolled his eyes again. He knew it was true. “That’s your reason for keeping the boy around?” he muttered, seeming somewhat amused by the idea. “Damn, I guess I should start acting like him. Maybe you’ll like me more.” Darling tried for a smug smile, but it was wiped away the moment Brandon looked up at him, his brown eyes burning.

“You didn’t lose anyone,” Brandon snapped defensively, his fiery brown eyes lighting up like mini bonfires as he dropped his sandwich onto the table angrily. “I lost Jessica. I lost Ashlin—”

Captain Darling’s eyebrows shot up, looking somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “I should remind you that it was _you_ that sent Ashlin away. She didn’t leave because she wanted to,” Darling interrupted, his grey eyes reflecting his determination. Darling had a point, not one that Brandon would ever want to admit to, but he had one. “ _She_ tried to be there for you, and every time she tried to be there, you pulled away from her and made it to the point where leaving was the better option for her. If anything, Ashlin lost _you_.”

Brandon closed his eyes and took a deep breath in hopes that it would calm him. It didn’t. “If you want to defend Ashlin, that’s fine. But _do not try telling me that I_ sent _her away._ I gave her a _choice_. She could’ve stayed here, or she could leave. And she chose to leave. _I never told her to leave_.” He hadn’t meant to yell. But between the topic of Jessica’s death and Ashlin leaving, he couldn’t hold back the anger. He hated being reminded that he was the reason that Ashlin had left, and even more than he hadn’t even tried to make her stay. He sighed with his hand pressed to his forehead. “Just… Do your job. I’m pretty sure that your job description doesn’t consist of defending a girl who is perfectly capable of defending herself.”

“You’re right. My job is training them and making sure that they’re safe. And if it means defending them from an idiot that can’t see past his own nose, I will,” Darling said before he stood up abruptly and walked out of the room, leaving Brandon there with his ham sandwich that looked as morbid as he felt.

‡

Will found no comfort in sleeping. Whenever he closed his eyes, he always pictured his parents’ coffins and the thought of them being gone forever. Three years couldn’t do away with the horrible memories of his parents’ deaths. And now Jesse was missing. He was beyond frustrated with Brandon for not allowing him to go to the fields and look for him. He felt as if the general didn’t care, but he wouldn’t mention it for the sake of living. Brandon’s definition of ‘care’ was very different than his own. He wanted to be out looking for Jesse, instead, Brandon kept him there, keeping an eye on him as if _he_ was the problem.

They didn’t have the _best_ history, Will allowed. When Will was young, he’d wanted to be Brandon’s right hand man, but what Will didn’t understand when he was little was that Brandon wanted things done a certain way and since his comprehension of English was small it was hard on him. He messed up. So Brandon yelled. At some point later on after many tears, Will decided he wasn’t going to be very useful to Brandon. Jessica Stillwater had already died at that point. By then, Brandon had completely lost his friendly, patient side.

Now Brandon had Danny. Will didn’t trust him. Anyone that Brandon actually liked made him wary. The only thing that relieved Will was that Danny didn’t seem to take too much interest in Ashlin.

Will nearly fell out of his bed at the sound of knocking on his door, clearly not expecting the knocking at his door that drew him out of his thoughts. “Yes?” he called as he ran a hand through his dark hair trying to make it lie flat as he fixed his dark blue eyes on the door. He wasn’t sure why anyone would be trying to get him at this time of the morning after he glanced at his alarm clock. Six-thirty.

“General Stillwater would like to see you,” the person called through the door.

Will rolled his eyes. He should have known. Brandon had no sense of time, and didn’t seem to sleep like a normal person. “Alright, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replied as he untangled himself from the sheets on his couch in the small apartment room. Who needed a bed when you could sleep on a _super_ comfortable couch?

“He’s in his office,” the captain told him as Will walked out of his apartment-room-thing. The captain, whoever it was, wasn’t someone he recognized. The captain, though Will said he didn’t need to, decided to escort him to Brandon’s office. It was almost as if he didn’t trust Will, or maybe he thought that he would get lost. How he could possibly get lost in the building he’d practically grown up in, he wasn’t sure, but he tolerated the escort—barely.

“You wanted me?” Will asked with a bored sigh as he poked his head around the corner of the doorframe to Brandon’s office. The general sat as his desk with a stack of papers sitting in front of him. His hair was a brushed back mess, like he’d been running his hands through it in dismay or annoyance, which seemed very unlike the general. Will wanted to believe that it was because of Ashlin’s new little friend.

“Yes, come in,” Brandon said hardly looking up from the paperwork. “Sit,” he said, his voice demanding, “please,” he added sternly as he looked up from his paper, his fiery brown eyes fixed on him. He sighed and pushed his paperwork away from him, though he seemed reluctant to leave it. “I’m sending patrols out to look for Jesse. And no, you will not be going. I’m sending my older soldiers who’ve seen him before. You have no need to worry about anything, I promise.” He sounded tired of the whole thing, like he wanted it to be over with. Will knew that Brandon blamed him, even though it had been Jesse’s decision to run away in the first place.

Will blinked in confusion at his words. “But Brandon, he’s my _brother_ ,” he protested with a scoff, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the general in disbelief. “I should be out there looking for him, not your soldiers—”

“You _should_ have made sure he didn’t run away in the first place,” Brandon interrupted, an annoyed expression clouding his face. “This shouldn’t even be my problem.” Will knew before Brandon had even said it that he was going to say it. Brandon had always been like this.

Will bit his lip and looked away from the general in embarrassment, his eyebrows still furrowed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He had been waiting to hear those words since he’d arrived at the base with the news of Jesse’s disappearance. It didn’t surprise him, but it didn’t make him feel any better either.

Brandon shook his head as if that would wipe away the topic that they had just been discussing—though Will was perfectly sure that it was more of a notification than a discussion. “I also want you to come down for Ashlin and Daniel’s training later. They need distractions. I want to know how good they really are,” he said as he yawned, from lack of sleep Will suspected.

Will realized that the general’s words were more of a command than a suggestion. “When?” he sighed, trying very hard not to lose his patience with the general. He hated being dragged around like he was some kind of dog that would come at his every beck and call.

“An hour or so,” Brandon told him, apparently not noticing Will’s annoyance, or he could have been ignoring it. He was very good at ignoring things. “And I’ve got everyone I can get out looking for him. If we can’t find him, he’s not here,” he said in an attempt to comfort Will, though it didn’t help very much.

Will swallowed nervously. “Will I be allowed to look at all?” he inquired. He had to press the matter if he wanted to get the chance to look. “I can go with some of the soldiers,” he offered, gritting his teeth in discomfort. He hated being paraded around with the soldiers, but if it allowed him to look for Jesse…

Brandon sighed. “Daniel and Ashlin will be going out to look after he’s received his promotion. I’ll allow you to go then,” he muttered, his brown eyes glinting in annoyance mildly.

He stood up from his chair with one eyebrow raised. “He’s being promoted already?” he murmured in surprise. The boy couldn’t have been more than nineteen, and even then he couldn’t have been at the base for very long. According to what Captain Darling had said, Daniel had only been there for a few months.

“You’ll see why at training,” Brandon said forcing a small smile that disappeared a moment later. “Go on. Eat or something,” he said shooing him away with the flick of his wrist. “Be down at the arena at noon.” Will nodded before he turned to leave Brandon’s office.

His lunch consisted of a small, small sandwich that looked like someone had murdered it, and water. Will wasn’t exactly hungry, but he knew he needed to eat. He’d hardly eaten anything since Jesse’s disappearance due to the anxiety and lack of appetite.

By the time he reached the arena, it was almost noon. Daniel was nowhere to be found, though Ashlin was waiting—impatiently—in the center, swinging her arms as she stretched them out in front of her. The arena was a huge room with stands surrounding the center. It was normally used for ceremonies—Will had sat through _plenty_ of those—though it was sometimes used for training. It was dark, but that seemed to make it all the more exciting. Brandon was standing in the center of the arena speaking to who Will thought was Captain Darling. Ashlin was bouncing around near them. She never could hold still. The thought made him smile a little.

Finally, Daniel walked in wearing black trainers’ clothes that Will recalled Ashlin telling him she’d stolen. Brandon saw him and said something that he didn’t catch, but the younger boy in the arena nodded. The general left his daughter with Daniel in the ring as he and the captain walked back to the stands and sat. Both Ashlin and Daniel were grinning as if they knew that they could both win, when they really knew that only one of them could win.

Daniel stood there casually, not even in any sort of fighting stance waiting for Ashlin to make the first move. Neither of the moved for the first few seconds, it was just a stare down until Ashlin finally took a step forward, making him take a step back. His grin grew even wider when she swung out at him and missed.

“C’mon,” he said raising his voice, with a smug smirk at her. “Hit me,” he challenged. She swung out at him again, and this time landed a punch in his shoulder. If it hurt, he showed no signs of pain. “You call that trying?” he mocked, hopping away from her as she tried to swing out at him again. She lost her grin and nearly leapt on him. The games were over. Ashlin tackled him to the floor and yet somehow ended up underneath him. “I’m telling you, you’re not trying hard enough,” he said, flashing Brandon a grin for a split second before returning his attention to Ashlin. She tried to push him off her, but he either had a strong grip on her, or he was too heavy for her to move.

He smiled and jumped up, allowing her to get to her feet. She didn’t seem so happy about that. She threw another punch at him, which he caught in the palm of his hand and wrapped his fingers around her fist and pushed her back. “Try harder,” he challenged again.

Ashlin smiled dangerously and then and there Will knew something was about to go wrong for Daniel. She kneed him and he collapsed on the floor. “Good enough?” she asked sweetly, her golden eyes flashing toward at Will in amusement.

“Oh, yeah, a lot better,” he managed, his voice half an octave higher. She pulled him to his feet and turned to face Brandon, who was staring at her. Daniel was hunched over, but he looked up at Brandon as well. “How’s that?” he managed to say in his normal voice, though he still looked pained.

“Could have been better.”

“If she hadn’t kneed—”

“If you weren’t mocking her the whole time,” Brandon corrected haughtily, “you would have lasted longer. But it was a fair fight.” Beside him, Captain Darling nodded in a grudging agreement. “Go back to the training room and show him how to use the guns. Again.”

‡

After Daniel’s assessment, Will found himself wandering the halls around the base for no particular reason. He’d roamed these halls with his brother when they were little. He remembered those times and it saddened him, but maybe Jesse was happy wherever he was. Will still didn’t want him gone though. For the last three years, Jesse had been the only person he’d had. He didn’t want to let him go, not after having nobody else around. He remembered the few times that they had actually gone horseback riding and had both enjoyed it—which was unfortunately before their parents’ deaths. After that, everything seemed to take a turn for the worse. Will knew he was over protective and that it made Jesse upset. All he wanted to do was make sure that Jesse was safe. He didn’t want him to end up like their parents. Dead. He hoped Jesse knew that.

He was back in his room before nine o’clock at night, early for him, but he was dead tired from not being able to sleep the previous night and almost instantly fell into a deep sleep the moment his head touched the arm of his couch.

‡

“Will, wake up,” Jesse said shaking his shoulder as much as the sixteen-year-old possibly could. He sounded worried—extremely worried—, and that made Will anxious as to what his little brother was worried about. “Mom and Dad aren’t coming home,” he whispered. The younger boy’s dark blue eyes were wide and sparkling with unshed tears.

Will blinked back up at him with the same shade of blue eyes in astonishment. “What?” he demanded as he threw the sheets that covered him aside. “What do you mean ‘they aren’t coming home’?” he asked, the pitch of his voice rising as he started to imagine all the reasons that they wouldn’t be coming home. Jesse didn’t answer, his voice caught in his throat. “Jesse,” he said, his heart racing as he began to understand what his brother meant. “What happened?”

Jesse’s lower jaw trembled; he was hardly managing to keep himself together. “There was a fighting on the base… Brandon sent one of his captains out here… and… He said they were shot…” he trailed off with a sniffle and a shake of his head. “They were _shot_.” The word hung in the air.

Will thought his heart stopped. “What?” he whispered. He shook his head wildly, running his pale hand through his dark hair. “No,” he said as he continued to shake his head. “No,” he repeated, his voice hollow. “They can’t be _dead_.”

Jesse bit his lip. “They are,” he mumbled. He licked his lips, trying to find some small way to calm himself down. “Brandon said we should move. He doesn’t want us to be brought into this mess,” he murmured, his ocean blue eyes searching Will’s face. He must have seen the distress in his older brother’s eyes, but he didn’t do anything. “If we don’t, we could be killed,” Jesse pressed, trying to make Will see what could possibly become of them.

Will sat up all the way before he finally said something. “Alright,” he stammered, squeezing his eyes closed, “Okay. Pack what you need. We’ll leave with Pepper and Charlie in the morning.” He wished he sounded stronger. He didn’t like sounding like a little kid with his parents taken away, but he knew there was no difference between ages when parents were lost. Jesse had to have known it too. He only nodded before he sat down in Will’s chair and curled up in a ball. If it had hadn’t been for the situation, Will would have smiled.

The scene shifted. Now Will and Jesse were walking across the desert-like landscape of Arizona with two horses reluctantly trudging behind them. Both of the boys were carrying one bag each. The horses had their equipment on them, but they carried nothing else. All four of them looked miserable and tired as if they’d been traveling for a long time.

“Will, can we stop just for a little bit?” Jesse mumbled looking at Will through his dirty, grimy hair. He looked tired beyond belief. The look of his younger brother made him want to stop, but he knew they couldn’t. He couldn’t risk having stupid people tracking them down.

Will shook his head. “No, sorry,” he replied, trying to give him an apologetic smile, which turned into a frown. “Once we get to a safe spot… Sorry, Jess,” Will murmured. He wanted to be there already, and it made him feel worse that Jesse was tiring out from the long trek to the supposed safe house that their parents had. They didn’t even know if it was _real_.

“Okay,” Jesse sighed as he reshouldered his bag and looked back at his black stallion who was trying to fight him for control of the reigns. Jesse was winning, but if Pepper kept up he would be free, and there was no doubt that horse would run and never come back if he could help it. “Do you know how much further it is until we’re there?” he asked, blue eyes glimmering with hope. Misplaced hope.

Will was tired of telling him that he didn’t know, or just simply the answer of ‘no’, but that was the only answer that he had to give him. “I have no idea, Jess,” he said over his shoulder. “If I did, do you think I’d be dragging you around out here?”

“ _Je ne peux jamais être sur avec vous_ ,” Jesse said forcing a smile. _I can never be sure with you.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

He wasn’t sure why Brandon insisted on showing him how to hold guns. While he’d gotten better, he was still nowhere near _great_. And he was pretty sure he was never going to get there either. Maybe Brandon was blind, Danny decided with a snort. Ashlin impatiently showed him how to hold a pistol, which he purposely held wrong every time just to annoy her.

“God, why can’t we just use swords?” he grumbled as he set the pistol on the only table in the room with a grudging look at Ashlin as he turned to face her. “At least swords are cool.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a saying, ‘Never bring a sword to a gunfight’? And I’m sure there’s a good reason for that saying,” Ashlin said sharply as she rolled her eyes at him. “I mean, you’re welcome to try your luck, but I’m not helping you. You learn by _practicing_ , Danny, not by staring at the dumb thing,” she huffed.

Danny scowled at her, completely forgetting the gun. “Unless you’re good with a sword. Maybe I am,” he decided determinedly as his green eyes swept the wall only to find no swords or knives of any sort. Only guns. And a lot of them at that. “Brandon has a sword, right?” He looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“No, Danny,” she sighed with a fiery gaze. “It’s ceremonial. It’s not meant for boys that can’t aim a pistol,” she said as she walked toward the door. “ _Plus_ , fighting with a sword isn’t even acceptable in the military anymore. Maybe in the seventeen-hundreds. Guess what, Danny? It’s not the seventeen-hundreds anymore.”

Danny licked his lips with a stubborn glance at her. “No, I thought we were still living in the seventeen-hundreds. _Thank you_ for notifying me,” he said. “I can still train with the sword though,” he persisted, green eyes gleaming.

Ashlin sighed hopelessly, throwing her hands up in annoyance. “I’m not getting you the sword,” she told him sternly as she disappeared around the corner of the doorframe.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll get it myself!” he called after her.

As it turned out, he _couldn’t_ get Brandon’s sword. It was locked up in a glass case that seemed to be under high protection, so he decided against the whole idea, not willing to risk his life for a sword. He ended up back in the training room again, this time alone. He wasn’t sure if he could take another training session with Ashlin. That woman would beat him black and blue if he let her and she wouldn’t even argue about it. In fact, she’d probably just laugh.

The training room was as empty as it was going to get. The guns were annoyingly still hanging on the wall, and the training mats were still spread messily across the floor. It lacked people, and that was the important part to Danny. He hated training with other people watching it. It made him feel as if the others were judging him for trying something new, and he didn’t like being judged.

He wasn’t really sure what he was doing in the training room. It was significantly harder to throw punches and hope to land them if there wasn’t a real target. He was forbidden to touch, much less _use_ , the guns without Brandon or Ashlin supervising him. He assumed the reasoning behind that was because they feared he would shoot his foot off or something. While the thought of them actually caring made him feel a little better, it still annoyed him.

If Brandon had seen what Danny had done instead of practicing fighting techniques he would have had a heart attack or he would have killed Danny. He lined the mats up—Brandon’s precious mats that Danny was sure he was going to pay for later—and set the one beam of wood in the whole room along the edge of it. A balancing beam.

He must have been practicing his walking across the beam and firing his fake pistol for a half hour or so before Brandon walked in on him and nearly scared Danny to death. The general paced across the training room and at first didn’t seem to notice him there. He tried to hurry away and hide, but not before Brandon caught him and gave him a confused look.

“Could you _possibly_ do something that would be useful? Something to do with the guns since you seem incapable of having decent aim?” he muttered shaking his head as Danny picked himself up off the mats that he’d slipped and fell on. “That beam isn’t something you need to busy yourself with.”

“It’ll help with my hand-to-hand combat,” Danny justified, his forest green eyes reflecting a challenge as he stared back at the general.

Brandon just stared blankly back at him for a moment. “Your hand-to-hand combat is nearly perfect, Daniel.” He sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead in frustration. “You’re supposed to be earning your first promotion soon. _Most_ lieutenants know how to aim a gun and hit a target.”

The news didn’t hit Danny like it probably should have. “Yeah, but do most have the hand-to-hand combat skills that I have?” he countered, his eyebrows raised in amusement. The look Brandon gave him made him realize that he probably should have been surprised by the news of the promotion to second lieutenant, but for whatever reason, he chose to ignore that bit of information.

Brandon sighed in irritation. “No,” he said. “How often do you think you’re going to fight hand-to-hand?” he inquired curiously. “Because I’m beginning to think you assume that’s all you’re going to do.”

Danny stared at him trying to understand why he was snapping at him the way he was, but didn’t manage to figure anything out. “No. I know that I have to know how to aim and fire a gun. And I _can_. My aim isn’t fantastic. There are some people that aren’t capable of using guns,” he said stiffly, his green eyes glaring at him. “Not everyone has great skills in everything, Brandon.”

 Brandon closed his eyes and sighed impatiently. “That’s not what I came here to talk or argue about. I came here to tell you that I’m promoting you. You’ll be a second lieutenant. The ceremony is in two days, which should be enough time for you to try to memorize most of the oath. They’ll have you repeat it at the ceremony.”

Danny raised his eyebrows in confusion, obviously not hearing what Brandon had said before. “You’re _promoting_ me?” he said as if that was the opposite of what he thought Brandon would have planned for him.

“Yes.” Brandon didn’t sound like he wanted to agree to the question at this point.

He licked his lips and squinted at the general suspiciously. “Oh, alright… Does Ashlin know? She’s going to kill me for that.”

“No, not yet,” Brandon said, sounding suddenly a little more lighthearted as he handed him a folded up piece of paper. “I left that job for you.”

Danny stared after the general as he turned to leave the room. _Of course, leave me the fun part_ , he thought as he rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered as he looked down at the paper. He unfolded it and skimmed the lines repeatedly. _“I, Daniel Jensen Richards, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”_

He sighed as he read it over again before thinking of how he was going to tell Ashlin that he was being promoted and that she wasn’t. He was beginning to think that the conversation was going to be a hazard to his health.

He pushed through the heavy door to the training room and headed down the hallway, eyes glued to the piece of paper with the oath written on it. He had two days to memorize it and try not to be killed by Ashlin while he was at it. He felt that it was going to be easier to memorize the paper than tell Ashlin the not-so-great news.

But Ashlin was his first stop. He didn’t want to tell her, but he had a feeling that if he didn’t tell her right away, there would only be more issues down the road. He knocked on the door and rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for her to answer the door. He heard the sound of a thump as if she’d fallen off the couch and then silence. The door opened to a crack with Ashlin’s yellow-golden eyes peering out of it curiously.

“Yeah?” she inquired on the other side of the door, her eyebrow raised in question. “What d’you want?”

Danny had to fight with himself to even get the words on his tongue. “I, uh, need to tell you something,” he said finally, not meeting her highly interested gaze. “Can I come in?” _Just please don’t kill me?_ he added to himself silently.

Ashlin nodded and opened the door the rest of the way. “So, what is it? Running away?” she inquired with a teasing smile as she shut the door behind them quietly.

Danny shook his head and ran a hand through his shortened hair. “Can you promise me that you won’t kill me if I tell you?” he inquired, her forest green eyes falling on her in question.

Ashlin looked taken aback by the request, but nodded anyway. “Yeah, sure,” she answered walking toward her couch before flopping down on it. “So…?”

Danny cleared his throat anxiously as he continued to stand by the door in case she didn’t keep her half of the promise. “I’m… Being promoted,” he murmured. “But you’re not…” Her yellow eyes darkened, but he wasn’t sure whether it was from anger or surprise. “Brandon didn’t want to tell you himself, so he made me do it.”

Ashlin shook her head in disbelief, her blonde hair falling in her eyes. “That’s because he’s a coward and didn’t want to risk me throwing something at him,” she muttered. She brushed her hair out of her eyes angrily. “I’ll still throw something at him,” she promised, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “That’s the oath then?” she inquired with a nod at the paper in his hand.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “So you’re not going to murder me?”

“I promised I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” Ashlin inquired, looking hurt when he questioned the promise. “Does that mean you’re not training with me anymore?” she asked, her head cocked to the side in question.

Danny shrugged his shoulders. That hadn’t been a question that he’d had at the time that Brandon had told him he was being promoted. “No idea. That’s something you’ll have to ask Brandon,” he told her as he sat down on the couch beside her. “And since I’ve only ever trained with you, I’d have to argue if he said we’re not.”

Ashlin smiled at that. “While I’m asking him about it, I can hit him,” she offered, her tawny eyes gleaming at the notion.

“You might put my promotion at risk,” Danny said trying to sound serious, but a happy smile broke out across his face. “And then I’ll be stuck as a recruit forever and _ever_.”

Ashlin rolled her eyes. “You know, that’s such a _horrible_ thing. You might even die from it.”

He nodded, his hair bouncing up and down as he did. “Definitely. And then I’ll be stuck with _you_ ,” he said with a teasing grin. She lightly hit his arm with a fist and stuck her tongue out at him. “And if I never get promoted, I will never be able to boss him around.”

She seemed to like that idea. “I can imagine him taking orders from a twenty-year-old,” she said stifling her laughter with a cheerful smile. “I’m sure he’ll have a few words for you.”

“He might,” Danny agreed, his green eyes gleaming, “but not before I can fire him.”

Ashlin didn’t seem so amused about that. “If you take his job away, you’re taking his life away. I wouldn’t do that.”

Danny licked his lips in thought, not wanting to end her enjoyment. “Hm. He could be a recruit then,” he said smiling. “A very, very angry recruit.”

Ashlin just shook her head.

‡

After Danny told her that he was being promoted and she wasn’t she didn’t feel so welcome at the base. Brandon _knew_ that she wanted to be promoted more than anything else. He didn’t seem too bothered about it though. She’d seen him once and he’d looked worried, but she knew that her promotion wasn’t what was bothering him.

She felt better than she had for the first time in months that she’d spent in the infirmary. The burns weren’t bothering her too much anymore. The scars, on the other hand, were going to be there to remind her that she was stupid for going through the vents for the rest of her life. And for once, she didn’t ache everywhere. She almost felt like she had before the fire. _Almost_. There was always going to be that little bit of pain or reminder that she couldn’t do everything she used to be able to do before.

She was nearly surprised when Will came to her room later, but she knew that she should have expected him to come around at some point. He would just bide his time, waiting until he decided she was in a good enough mood. The thought of the twenty-year-old being frightened of her made her smile a little.

He was sitting on her couch, much like he had seven years before, but this time he wasn’t quite as relaxed or nearly as cheerful. Time had taken that away. Now he looked half-dead. Sure, his hair had been brushed, and he’d put on clothes decent enough to make him look like he wasn’t homeless today, but his ocean blue eyes were so dull, and his skin was paler than it usually was. And it was all because Jesse was missing.

“Brandon said that he was going to send us out after Daniel’s—”

“Danny,” she reminded him with a soft sigh. There were somethings Will just wouldn’t pick up on.

“—promotion,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “He’ll let us look, but I don’t think he believes that we’ll find him,” he murmured with an inward sigh, his eyes focused on the floor in front of him.

She _wanted_ to tell him to stop worrying about Jesse, and that the other boy could take care of himself. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. She worried about him just as much as Will did, whether he knew it or not. But right now she wasn’t _worried_ about Jesse, she was mad that he’d left Will on his own without any sort of hint of where he’d gone. Will was so heartbroken over it that it made her heart ache a little. He just moped around, not putting much effort into anything. That wasn’t the Will she knew.

“Brandon doesn’t believe anyone can do anything,” she snorted rolling her eyes. _That_ wasn’t a lie. “The day he starts believing in people is the day I die.” She shrugged her black jacket on and turned away from him as she pulled her hair out of the back of her jacket. “He thinks he’s just sending us out to show you that he won’t be found. But we’ll find him.”

Will still looked doubtful but nodded. “You know, we were planning on coming up this year,” he said, as if it was supposed to be some sort of an apology. “Nobody came to pick us up… And then Jesse disappeared.” The older boy sighed again.

Had it been a different occasion, Ashlin would have snapped at him, but she refrained from doing it this time. This wasn’t the situation for snapping. “Brandon assumed that you weren’t coming this year, so he probably decided not to send anyone out there. Waste of time and a risk of losing people. You know how John’s been lately,” she muttered.

He bit his lip again and nodded in agreement. “Where _is_ he? I haven’t seen anything of him lately… And Brandon hasn’t mentioned anything about him. I assumed he’d been taken care of…” he trailed off, his eyes finding interest in the floor.

“Last I heard, he was in Philadelphia, but I could be wrong,” she said shrugging her shoulders before turning back to him. “He’s finished murdering all the politicians, so I don’t know what he’s got planned next. I don’t really care about him. He’s kind of annoying. Burning down houses, clearing cities… Killing innocents.”

“Isn’t that almost exactly what Brandon does?” Will inquired raising an eyebrow.

Ashlin scowled at Will. “He doesn’t burn down houses. He’s not killed innocent people,” she said sounding mildly irritated, but also unsure of her own words. “I don’t even understand this dumb war, or whatever this even is. It’s annoying. Far too many people have died in it because two stupid men can’t get along.”

“People never get along,” Will pointed out gently, trying to steer her away from the direction she was going. “And it was only a matter of time. My uncle has a way with… Starting arguments over _everything_ ,” he muttered rolling his eyes.

Ashlin nodded in agreement with a sniffle. John Murray was known to cause many arguments, even before the war had started. She remembered the times years ago when Jesse and Will visited the base with their uncle, John. He was a short man with sandy-blonde hair and stormy grey eyes that always seemed to be plotting something. Well, he’d finally plotted something. Until the explosion she hadn’t even known that John and Brandon didn’t get along. After that, she never saw him again. She’d only heard the terrible things about John after that.

“When we go out to look for him what are we taking? Charlie’s here… But I’m pretty sure the base has a low stock of _chevaux_ ,” he said. He was trying to be funny, which was more than she could ask for right now.

Ashlin’s brow knitted together as she thought about their transportation options. “We _do_ have horses, but I think that taking one of the trucks would be better. Horses are needy. We’d have to feed them and take extra just for that. With the truck…. You just take extra gas and go.”

Will nodded, his damp dark hair curled against his forehead when he pulled his hands away from his face. “Yeah, true,” he decided, “but I don’t want any of these idiots around here taking care of Charlie. They’ll poison him or do something equally stupid.”

She fought back a smile at Will’s lack of faith in the soldiers. “I’ll ask Darling to watch him while we’re away if that makes you feel any better. We shouldn’t be gone too long anyway.”

“ _Shouldn’t_ ,” Will emphasized with a glance at her, “but if we’re gone longer than we initially planned, I really don’t want the idiots around here touching Charlie,” he said as he pushed himself off the couch. “Don’t you have training with Daniel anyway?” he inquired, his blue eyes focused on her in confusion.

Ashlin’s shoulders tensed up at the mention of training. “I’m not going today. Brandon is being… Himself,” she muttered, tawny eyes darkening. “Danny’s perfectly fine on his own.” _Hopefully_ , she thought to herself. _He might kill himself with the training mat_. At the thought of that she rolled her eyes before returning her attention to Will.

Will shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t leave him alone with Brandon. One of them might stab the other,” he said with a snort before falling silent and smiling. “Do you want to go horseback riding?” he inquired one corner of his mouth quirking up in the slightest of smirks.

Ashlin caught his gaze in disbelief, blinking her eyes in surprise. “Of course,” she said shaking her head after recovering from her shock. “I would love to,” she said with a small smile.

‡

Jesse sat back with his head pressed against Pepper’s heaving side. He felt terrible for his horse. He probably wouldn’t last more than a day out here now, especially since their food and water supply was gone. The thought made him want to cry. He was losing his only friend he’d had in years. And it’d been his fault.

“Peps,” he whispered gently as he ran his trembling hand through his tangled mane. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, closing his eyes as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I never should have left.” He forced his ocean blue eyes open again as more tears welled behind his eyes. The Warlander’s heart fluttered in his chest as he moved his head so it rested comfortably on the sandy ground. The sight of him made Jesse wish it was him in Pepper’s place. “You’re gonna be all right,” Jesse promised, not caring to move his own grimy hair out of his eyes.

Jesse struggled to his feet. He didn’t _want_ to leave Pepper now. He wanted to be there for him when he died, but there was something about dying that bothered him. “Pepper,” he said softly as he looked down at his stallion. His once beautiful mane was tangled and matted and his coat was in terrible shape. Jesse wasn’t sure he’d outlasted his horse. They were both dehydrated and starving, but somehow Pepper’s conditions had worsened faster. It made Jesse’s heart ache to see his horse in that condition. “I’m so sorry, buddy… _Je t’aime_. And I promise, I’ll meet you on the other side,” he murmured.

He pulled his pack away from Pepper’s side and shouldered it before turning his back on the Warlander. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, tears burning his eyes as he started walking across the sandy landscape.


	9. Chapter 9

Ashlin hadn’t rode a horse since she was seven, much less been _around_ one for six almost, eight years, now. She’d never seen Charlie before. The Murray boys didn’t have him the last time she’d been to their farm, which she excused since it’d been seven years since she’d been there. He was a beautiful dun with a black mane and darkened points. If he hadn’t been Will’s she probably would have stolen him in a heartbeat.

“He’s feisty,” Will warned as he put his hands up in front of him to show his horse that he didn’t have anything in his hands.

Ashlin smiled as she neared Charlie. He stared back at her with his dark brown eyes trying to figure out whether she was friendly or not. “Hey, Charlie,” she said holding a hand out for him to smell. He just stared at her quizzically as Will saddled him quickly.

“You wanna ride him? I mean… He can hold us both…” he mumbled, dark blue eyes glued to his horse’s flank.

Ashlin rolled her eyes as she looked at him with half of a smile. “You’re terrible at flirting,” she notified him with a snort of laughter. “But it might work out better that way. I haven’t been around the horses since you two left.”

Will nodded quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “If he bucks, you hold on tight. He’s known to have a temper.”

Ashlin shrugged her shoulders as she reached out to stroke the dun’s muzzle. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I think he likes me,” she said with a grin in Will’s direction.

Will threw his hands up in mock anguish. “He loves everyone but me,” he sighed. “Ready?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow as he shuffled toward her.

Ashlin nodded and allowed him to help her onto Charlie’s saddle. The horse, whatever he was, was huge. Sure, she wasn’t very tall, but he towered over her and almost stood a good six inches taller than Will. The boy led him out of the poorly kept stables with hardly any hesitation from Charlie. The horse didn’t seem to mind that he was being taken away from the stable, that was, until Will tried to pull himself onto the saddle in front of Ashlin. Charlie then decided to try to nip and kick at him a couple times without succeeding in doing anything besides irritating Will.

“Yep, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like you,” Ashlin laughed when Will finally won the horse over and held the reigns tight in his hands.

“He never has,” Will muttered. She imagined that he rolled his eyes by the sound of his voice. “Hold on tight. He’s only going to get worse.” To emphasize the point, Charlie stamped his hoof into the rocky ground. Ashlin only laughed as she wrapped her arms around Will’s chest.

‡

Hunter was moving again. He really wanted out of his stupid cage. He felt like a dog in it, and to make the point clear that he basically was a dog, the people moving him rattled the bars constantly. He tried telling them over and over again that he didn’t belong there, but all his captors ever did was yell, “Shut up,” at him. There was no escape from the cage or the bad memories. Even in his sleep he found no peace.

The dreams were more like nightmares. They almost always revolved around his parents being pulled away from him into a different room and the sound of gunshots and then Danny running off, leaving him there all alone. Every once in a while there were the nightmares about being thrown into the cages and being beaten. There was no easy way out of it. Even being awake seemed like a nightmare.

They weren’t in Philadelphia anymore, that he could tell. The landscape drastically differed from the trees and grass in his former home. Instead, there was sand, sand, and more sand. They were in a desert. He had a strong feeling that he was going to be left out there to die.

“My name is Colonel Smith,” the man said. _Military?_ Hunter thought to himself, hardly refraining from squinting at the man. The uniform almost reminded him of Danny in the dream he’d had before he’d been moved. “I’m here to pick up decent looking scum for General Stillwater. Let me warn you, if you aren’t chosen, you’re going to die. You get chosen, you’re still going to die, but later rather than sooner.” Colonel Smith grinned at them, his crooked, yellowing teeth making Hunter inwardly cringe. “So, do we have any volunteers?” Someone further down the line stepped forward. One of the colonel’s men shot and the person feel to the ground, twitching as blood poured out of the wound. “No volunteers? That’s too bad.”

“You had one,” Hunter said boldly, his green eyes set on the colonel angrily.

“What was that, boy?” Smith said, his head whirling around to face him.

 _Are you deaf?_ Hunter almost snapped. “Nothing,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Sir.”

“Nothing, _Sir_ ,” he called, green eyes blazing. “Just a cough.”

Smith stared at him murderously, brown eyes glittering. “Get off the line, boy,” he barked with an angry frown.

Hunter raised his eyebrows in amusement. “I’m already off it,” he said with a gesture to the rest of the people standing a half foot behind him. He wasn’t particularly sure why he was messing with the colonel, but he knew that it wasn’t going to end well for him.

Smith marched forward, his hands in fists before grabbing Hunter by the hair at the nape of his neck. “You think this is funny, boy?” he snapped, his voice dangerously quiet, his brown eyes like miniature raging hurricanes.

“No, Sir,” Hunter said shaking his head, sending his shaggy hair flying in all directions. He could scarcely keep his laughter in. After everything that had gone on he wasn’t very scared of Smith. Just annoyed. “This is _very_ scary. I should be crying.” He looked Smith dead in the eye without flinching. The colonel backhanded him, his lip curled up in a snarl. “Ouch.” He grinned, splitting his lip. He tried to ignore the stinging pain.

Smith growled and threw him away from him in anger before kicking him to the ground and then continuing to kick him several more times before he finally took a step away from Hunter. “Is it funny now, boy?” he mocked, brown eyes squinting down at him before taking a step back toward the other man watching.

“Mhm, very,” Hunter managed to croak as he spit out a mouthful of blood, inwardly cringing at the sight. “It’s funny to see a colonel like you getting frustrated over a boy.” Hunter stayed where he was, knowing that if he got up the colonel would probably kick him back down. He had managed to piss him off quite a bit.

Smith muttered something to the man standing beside him before the other man roughly yanked Hunter off the ground and forced him along with his hand at his neck. He was beginning to wonder if Smith had asked him to take him off to the side and kill him until he realized that the man was actually taking him to a truck. That didn’t make him feel any safer. “You don’t talk to people like that,” he said gruffly as he pulled the passenger door open for Hunter and let him climb in.

“Why not?” he snorted, looking back at the man. “We’re all dying anyway,” he muttered. He leaned back in the seat with his head against the warm leather headrest before closing his eyes.

“Because I hate seeing kids with potential killed,” the man said as he shut the door with a heavy slam. He walked around the front of the truck and climbed in on his side. “What’s your name kid? And I don’t want lies. We’ve already got a kid running around calling himself at least two names, and tried playing stupid with the general,” he grumbled drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked in Smith’s direction.

“Hunter Richards,” he said opening his eyes and focusing them on the landscape in front of them. “What was the other kid’s name?” he inquired curiously with a glance toward the man.

“Daniel Richards.”

Hunter blinked his eyes in surprise as he looked back at the landscape in front of them. _My brother?_ he almost asked, but cut himself off. “Is he still there?” Hunter asked, hoping that he didn’t sound too surprised. He wasn’t even sure where _there_ was.

The driver shrugged his shoulders. If he heard the surprise in Hunter’s voice he didn’t say anything about it. “It wouldn’t hurt if he was gone,” he snorted.

Hunter was starting to wonder if the man had realized that their last names were the same, or that he just didn’t care about it. “Is he… Worse than me?” Hunter said attempting to joke, though he wasn’t really in the mood for joking. Not to mention the blood from his split lip and whatever he’d coughed up was starting to dry to his chin and it wasn’t a nice feeling.

“More annoying,” he huffed. “I swear if that kid talks back to me again…” He shook his head and looked away.

Hunter squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, but kept his eyes focused on the horizon in front of them. “He’s training to be a soldier then?” he murmured.

The man laughed at that. “Not with that attitude of his,” he muttered. “He mouths off to the general all of the time. He thinks he’s the best there is. And the general doesn’t even touch him. If he was my recruit he’d be getting punished.”

 _Yep, that’s Danny_ , Hunter thought with a scoff. Not many people would try back talking a general. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry. You keep it up and the general’ll take you in too,” he muttered rolling his grey eyes. “Seems to like anyone who doesn’t know how to keep their minds to themselves.” The man finally started the truck after two more people that looked nearly scared to death got in the truck with them. “Lucky contestants, huh,” he said with a snort of laughter as he pulled away from Colonel Smith’s group.

The whole ride to the base was pretty silent. The two in the back were still to terrified to speak, and Hunter was afraid if he started talking too much that the man driving would realize that Danny was related to him—except that the man seemed to pick it up on his own.

“You’re related to him,” he said as he escorted the three of them into the huge building that took up most of the grounds of the base.

“Huh?” Hunter said whipping his head in the man’s direction, completely caught off-guard by the statement.

“Daniel, the sarcastic, narcissistic kid. You’re related to him,” he noted, his grey eyes lingering on Hunter for a moment. “Don’t lie. I know him. You two look the same. Even if you weren’t related, you know him. I saw the look on your face when I mentioned him.”

Hunter felt his stomach rise to his throat. If he admitted that Danny was his brother, what would happen? He didn’t want to get Danny in trouble, and he definitely didn’t want to get himself hurt by admitting to something that he didn’t really have to. “He’s my brother,” he mumbled quietly, giving in to the stern stare.

The man snorted in what sounded like amusement. “Well, that would explain the sarcasm,” he muttered. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to say anything. If they figure it out themselves, you should be alright. They just don’t enjoy siblings being together.”

Hunter gulped anxiously. “Alright,” he sighed with a nod. “Don’t talk to him either?”

“Don’t even look at him,” the man agreed with a slight nod. “You just have to hope that General Stillwater doesn’t take an interest in you. He doesn’t usually train anyone… But right now he’s training Daniel and his own daughter, Ashlin. You should keep away from her too,” he warned. He held the door open to what looked like a cafeteria. “Don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Hunter blinked his acknowledgement as he walked past the man into the cafeteria. The room was small. He hoped that this wasn’t really the cafeteria because they couldn’t fit more than a hundred people in there at the most, including the staff. There was only one person in the room beside the three of them, and he seemed to have a perplexed gaze locked on Hunter. “Good luck,” the man snorted from the door. Hunter had a feeling that they would need it.

He immediately gravitated toward the tables, ignoring the look the other person was giving him. He didn’t care what he thought. The beating he’d taken had made him sore and he didn’t feel like he could stand for much longer.

“Shouldn’t you be down with Ashlin?” the man asked.

Hunter looked at the man, and realized that he was probably the general. “Who?” he asked.

The general shook his head and turned his attention to the other two. “Get up,” he said. Hunter didn’t feel like getting up, but he pushed himself to his feet anyway. General Stillwater nodded once Hunter was on his feet. “You all know why you’re here, I assume?” he said, brown gaze sweeping over them. The man was short, only standing a couple of inches taller than Hunter, making him around five foot eight at the most. Despite the height, he seemed to know that he was in charge, and he wasn’t to be challenged. “I hope you’ll know not to expect things from your trainers,” he said after the three of them nodded. The general’s eyes locked onto Hunter.

 _Oh, God,_ he thought to himself. _He knows_. “When do we begin training…sir?” he asked, his green eyes meeting General Stillwater’s scathing glare.

“As soon as I decide you’re ready,” he said, his dark gaze flickering between the other two. “First things first, we’re getting you all checked up on. Looks like you got a beating,” Stillwater told him.

‡

Laying around in a mostly empty room wasn’t Hunter’s _ideal_ day, but he figured that arguing with the general would be bad for his health. He could stand to live a few more days, even if it meant staying in the infirmary.

General Stillwater didn’t mention anything about Danny even after the little orientation in the cafeteria, though it was clear to Hunter that the general had mistaken him for his brother. He still felt uneasy about the whole thing. For the last three years he’d had no idea where Danny really was. Now he knew exactly where he was, and they were in the same building. Hunter had been forbidden to talk to Danny, or even see him. He didn’t want to think about what could happen to them if the general didn’t want them around each other.

A few recruits came in to meet him throughout the whole day, which was probably on the general’s orders. Some stayed and talked, others only greeted him before leaving the infirmary. Hunter couldn’t blame them. They had to get new recruits all the time.

Every once in a while he would be left in the small room alone. He wasn’t sure which he hated more. Being surrounded by people he didn’t know, or being alone in the creepy infirmary room.

‡

“Wasn’t Ashlin supposed to be here to train?” Danny inquired with a quizzical look at Brandon who was busying himself with moving the training mats.

“Yes, but she seemed upset,” he answered over his shoulder.

Danny snorted. “Hm. I wonder why that is,” he muttered, sarcasm coating his words. He still wished that Ashlin was being promoted with him. He hated that she wasn’t. Danny had planned to try to persuade him but, when he’d come back late from talking to new recruits, he’d given up his attempt. “It’s kind of hard to train by yourself.”

Brandon didn’t stop moving the mats around at the other end of the room. “Why not try training with the damn pistol?” he inquired harshly. “It’s not hard. You aim, pull the trigger, repeat.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Someone who takes joy in my training is needed. Otherwise I get bored pretty quickly,” he said twirling the pistol in his hand in boredom. “ _You_ do not take joy in _any_ of my training,” he added with a scowl in Brandon’s direction. “Even if you did…” He trailed off with the shake of his head.

“Just practice,” Brandon sighed. “Or I’ll forget the promotion altogether.”

He snorted in amusement. “Forget the promotion,” he muttered under his breath with a scoff. He raised the pistol, and aimed and fired within seconds, the bullet buzzing by Brandon’s head. “I know how to use a gun,” he said pointedly with a scowl spreading across his face.

Brandon glared at him as he turned to face him, leaving the mats on the ground. “Practice. With _out_ shooting me,” he grumbled standing up and rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh.

“Hm,” Danny mumbled turning to aim the pistol at the target this time. He squeezed the trigger and fired. And missed.

“You’re going to be killed,” Brandon told him as he walked toward the door, irritation plain in his voice. “Especially if you think you can just hit them and win.”

Danny lowered the pistol slowly and tossed Brandon a murderous glare. “I _can_ just ‘hit them and win’,” he grumbled. Brandon left the room shaking his head and muttering to himself about something Danny assumed was himself. At that point, Danny had enough of the guns for the day and dropped the pistol. He jumped at the sound of the metal clattering against the ground. _Where on Earth is Ashlin?_ he thought to himself as he stalked out of the room. Even if she hadn’t been at training, she had to be around the base somewhere.

‡

They hadn’t made it very far. Charlie was being exceptionally difficult and Will ended up walking with him to hold the lead. The dun almost seemed fine then, but he was still pulling on the reign stubbornly and refusing to go in certain directions.

He knew that he should have expected the horse to act the way he was. Charlie _always_ acted this way, especially around new people just to make Will feel bad. It was like a way of getting back at him for all the times that Will never took him out and had Jesse take him out instead. He wasn’t sure _why_ Charlie was bothered by that. If anything, Jesse was far better with horses, which should have been great for him. Charlie obviously thought otherwise.

“Will,” Ashlin said in a questioning tone as she ran her hand through Charlie’s mane, which the horse seemed to like a lot, “why didn’t you come back after Mom was killed?” she asked.

Will nearly cringed at the question. He knew that he shouldn’t have, but he almost did. “Brandon…” he started, before trailing off with the shake of his head. “My father knew how he would act with Jessica gone and he wanted us to stay clear of it. He was destructive and snappy beyond belief. You _know_ that,” he said, keeping his blue eyes on the landscape in front of them as he picked at Charlie’s reigns uncomfortably.

“Yeah, but _why_? Brandon would have been better off with someone here to help him,” she pressed. “I know Emilie and Riley showed up here the year that they were killed… But you guys didn’t even call before that. Five years of nothing from your family. I have to wonder, what would Brandon be like if he’d had someone there for him instead of having nobody at all?”

Will _did_ wonder that, but he still doubted that Brandon would have turned out much better than he had ended up. “My parents didn’t want us going back up there. They were scared that he’d do something stupid… They knew that a war was starting and they wanted to keep us away from the base… John… He had plans to blow the place and we wanted to steer clear of it.”

Ashlin looked up from Charlie’s mane at him. “You knew?” she demanded, golden eyes fixed on him in disbelief.

Will shook his head, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny, sad smirk. “No,” he promised, “but we had our guesses. And I’m sure Brandon thought as much too. Especially after what happened with the truck…” He trailed off running a hand through his messy, dark hair. Ashlin fell silent as Charlie continued onward with the steady clomping of hooves on the uneven, rocky ground. It was a pleasant sound. It reminded him of the farm when he was little, when he actually had a _home_.

Ashlin cleared her throat loudly in an attempt to break the silence. “Are you going to stay here after all this is over with?” she inquired, her head tilted to the side in question, her short, wavy blonde hair cascading across her face.

It was a fair question, but it was one he didn’t even have an answer to. “I don’t know,” he said shrugging his shoulders, continuing to pick at the reigns. “I don’t even know if ‘here’ is going to be here when this is all said and done,” Will said tossing her an uncertain look over his shoulder. “After all this is over with I just want to settle down and stay away from the stupid people.”

Ashlin laughed, making him smile. Her laugh had been one of the things he’d missed during the seven years of absence from the base. “You can’t get away from the stupid people,” she promised with a snort, “they’re everywhere.” Charlie nickered as if he were agreeing with her. “But if this place is destroyed, where would you go?” she inquired curiously.

He licked his lips absentmindedly as he thought about it, continuing to march on. He really had never decided where he was going to settle down after the war. It had never occurred to him that it might end in his lifetime, he had always assumed he’d be one of the casualties—that he wouldn’t survive. “I don’t know,” he said again with a sigh. “Maybe once this is all over I’ll decide.”

“You never could decide,” Ashlin pointed out with a snort of laughter as she leaned forward to hug Charlie’s neck, earning her a mouthful of his mane. “I want to go to Alaska. It’s one of the few places that haven’t been pulled into the war. It’ll still be beautiful up there.” She sat up again spitting horsehair out of her mouth with a scowl. “It’s always been too far out of John’s reach to be worth destroying.”

Will’s smile grew bigger at that. Ashlin had always been a big dreamer, always wanting to do the things that nobody else wanted to do. When they were little, she had always been the one to outdo everyone else and then keep going for more just because she knew she could. There was never the question of whether or not she could do something. It was more of the question of _how_ she would do it. “Just hope John doesn’t know about that little dream, or he’ll destroy it too. For some reason he’s got a thing for destroying all the hopes and dreams of anyone who has the name ‘Stillwater.’”

She made a face once she finally removed all of the hair from Charlie’s mane out of her mouth. “Was he always like that?” she inquired quietly, her tawny eyes setting on him in a silent curiosity.

Will nearly stopped in his tracks. There was hardly a person who talked about how John had been before he’d started his arguments with Brandon. “I…” He faltered as he bit his tongue to keep from sounding like a complete idiot. “He—No. John wasn’t. I remember him when I was five years old... He’d come out to the farm and he’d go horseback riding with me, and Jesse would be with him just waving his arms around. John… He seemed so happy then…” He trailed off with an inward sigh. He wasn’t sure what had changed his uncle’s mind. John had lived with the Murrays since he was two years old, and had seen him every day during that time period. And then one day he’d changed without explanation or reason. “And then he snapped around the time he blew the truck up.” He broke off, the words caught in his throat. “I don’t know what changed him.”

Ashlin took the sudden silence as a chance to sound sorry. He figured that she probably _was_ sorry, but there had always been something about her that made him unsure. “It couldn’t be your fault,” she pointed out gently, “That’d be like me saying that it’s my fault that Brandon turned out the way he did. I know I certainly didn’t _help_ the matter. But he was always determined to ignore me after Mom died…” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, no more sadness,” she said sounding determined as she straightened her back so she sat perpendicular to the ground.

Will chuckled to himself. “Alright,” he promised as he pushed his hair back over the top of his head with a yawn and a sigh. “Do you like Danny?” he inquired, trying to sound serious.

“Oh my God,” Ashlin said in horror, her yellow eyes round in astonishment. Will felt his heart begin to sink until she continued. “That boy is the bane of my life. He’s absolutely ridiculous.”

He smiled to himself. “That sounds a lot like someone I know.”

“Oh?” Ashlin scoffed. “Who’s that?”

“You.”

“ _Pft_ ,” she snorted, glaring at the back of his head. “I am not!” Ashlin objected as she reached out to hit him but missed and nearly fell off Charlie’s back. “Okay, well maybe _sometimes_ ,” she amended sheepishly. “But most of the time I am the only sensible person on base.”

“Sensible?” he asked with a glance back at her. “More like annoying.” He grinned at her before turning his gaze back to the landscape in front of them.

She scowled at the back of his head. “I am not annoying. I just… Make myself known,” she grumbled, squinting at him as he looked back at her. The look reminded him a lot of Brandon, but he would never admit that. If he did he was sure his life would be endangered.

Will shook his head as he pulled Charlie’s reigns trying to make the horse turn around. They’d been gone long enough. If anything, there was probably someone running around like a chicken with its head cut off because they couldn’t find Ashlin. That person would most likely be Daniel. “That’s like saying I’m not talking, I’m just opening my mouth and there are sounds coming out of it.”

She frowned at him. “There doesn’t have to be words coming out of your mouth. You could just be making dumb noises,” she muttered sticking her tongue out at him. “ _Rydych yn boen y ffordd yr ydych yn cael eu_.”

“I really hate Welsh,” he muttered running a hand through his rough black hair trying to comb through it, but it really wasn’t working. “I don’t know why Jessica ever taught it to you.” He might not have known the exact reason, but he had a suspicion that it was probably a way of annoying Brandon. Most of what Jessica did was to annoy the general. He wasn’t sure why she’d enjoyed that.

“So I could tease you and Jesse and you wouldn’t understand it,” she said with a smug smile.

“I _actually_ understood that. I’ve been practicing,” he said pointedly as he struggled to translate it. Welsh was a harsh language compared to his French. “Something similar to ‘You are painful the way you are.’” He made a face at her.

“You’re a pain the way you are,” she corrected. “But you _can_ learn,” she said in delight with a teasing smile as she patted Charlie’s flank absentmindedly. “Do you speak Spanish well? _Que puedo hablar muy buen Española._ ” She grinned at him knowing that he could only partially understand what she was saying.

“I really hate you and your dumb languages.”

“You love it and you know it.”

He smiled, but let it go. “Do you speak any Chinese or Japanese?” he inquired. He imagined with all the languages she’d learned that one of the oriental languages would be something she’d pick up. It had always bothered him that she spoke so many languages fluently. While he could only speak French well enough and English exceptionally, he had always wished he had the talent to learn more languages.

Ashlin shook her head, surprising him. “That never really interested me. I’d rather learn the languages of the placed I plan to visit someday… Français, español, Cymraeg, Canadian—”

“Canada has their own language?” Will asked curiously. Last he checked, they still spoke English and Canadian French… Granted it had been fourteen years ago, but he was perfectly sure that they still spoke the same languages.

Ashlin screwed her face up fighting to tell the lie. “Yes,” she replied in a strangled voice. She’d never been good at lying. “Canada’s a bad, bad place full of maple syrup addicts and people repeatedly saying ‘sorry’.”

“Oh?” Will said with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t remember Canada that way. “When did you go to Canada?” he asked. She fell silent, her golden eyes finding interest on the horizon. “You’ve never been there!” he cried with a smile of triumph. He had been sure that she hadn’t gone to Canada. He wasn’t even sure if she’d left Arizona. Even if she had left, it hadn’t been for long, and it had been to somewhere nearby.

“No, but Mom went,” she protested giving him a hard stare as if that cleared everything up.

“And how do you plan to get into Alaska without going through Canada?” he asked with interest. He had always been fascinated by listening to her plans, which usually included some weird or crazy ways to accomplish her plans.

“A boat?” she suggested as if it was common sense. “Maybe a plane?” Those were two options that had to be one of the more sane ideas she usually had.

“John will have rigged the things. There’s no longer any safe transportation. We’ll have to revert back to carts and horses!” he exclaimed throwing his hands up, the reigns tight in his grasp as he laughed. It felt good to laugh and not have to worry about what others might think of him. Ashlin never cared, and if she did now, she didn’t say anything.

“Now I’ll have to go through Canada,” she grumbled her shoulders drooping in mock defeat. “I can swim,” she said decidedly, her head raised in determination. That was one of her less sane ideas.

“You’d freeze or drown,” he objected furrowing his eyebrows.

“I will not go through Canada!”

“What’s so bad about Canada? I went there when I was seven and I loved the place!” That was true. He’d loved Canada. He had gone with his family, though he doubted Jesse would remember too much, he’d thoroughly enjoyed it. It had been a pleasant vacation with only a few minor complications. Even John had been there.

“Traitor!” she complained stifling her laughter with a silly grin.

Will snorted as he rolled his eyes. “ _I’m_ not the one speaking multiple languages with ease,” he countered, shaking his head. “Why not English? What’s so terrible about English?”

“Too many rules.”

Will had to agree with her on that. It had taken him forever to learn English with French being his native language. “Yeah. Well you don’t follow rules very well, now do you?” he chuckled. Charlie came to a complete stop when she opened her mouth to speak, nearly making Will topple over as he continued to walk with the reign still in his hands. “Sorry,” he said throwing her an apologetic glance over his shoulder. “Temperamental horse,” he muttered with a scowl at Charlie.

Ashlin patted the dun’s neck with a small smile, encouraging the behavior, no doubt. Sometimes she did everything in her power to annoy him, he swore. “I just think he does it to annoy you,” she grinned. “Gimme the reigns.”

He hesitantly handed them over to her and then took a hasty step back. “Don’t go too far!” he said warningly.

Ashlin smiled mischievously at him. “What makes you think I would?” She slapped the reigns against Charlie and he started off with a gentle trot, leaving Will there by himself.

‡

“Momma made cookies!” Ashlin announced proudly as she banged open the door to the boys’ room, her curly blonde hair hanging around her hair in a mess, as if she’d run there.

Will perked up instantly. “Really? What kind?”

Jesse rolled his blue eyes with a scoff. “Does it matter?”

“No!” Will grinned as he got to his feet, with a quick glance at his younger brother. “Well,” he said combing his fingers through his messy black hair, “I’ll be back, slow poke.”

Ashlin giggled as she watched the older Murray boy disappear down the hall. “She really didn’t,” she said quietly.

Jesse beamed, blue eyes glowing happily. “You knew he’d run off,” he laughed as he walked toward the door. “C’mon, we’ll go see Excalibur.”

She grinned and bounced down the hall after him. “Why didn’t you bring a different horse?” she inquired curiously to the back of his dusty-blonde haired head.

He looked back at her worriedly. “I thought ‘Cali was your favorite?” he said in question though he had meant it as a statement.

Ashlin nodded vigorously, sending blonde stands of hair in almost every direction. “I was just wondering,” she said. “Plus, Will told me you only had S’calibur,” she added shrugging her shoulders.

Jesse laughed. “Does having more than one horse make me better?” he inquired, keeping his eyes on the empty hall ahead of them.

“No!” Ashlin told him. “I don’t have any horses and I think I’m better than you,” she said grinning when he turned to face her.

“Is that so?” he said, ocean blue eyes sparkling in amusement. He put his back to the door, but stopped walking. “Promise me you’ll not squeal,” he said, his French accent slipping into his words.

Ashlin nodded solemnly.

“Pinky swear?” He held out his left pinky with his eyebrows raised, waiting for her to agree.

She giggled, but entwined her pinky around his. “Pinky swear,” she declared, head held high.

“All right,” Jesse said in a hushed voice as he pushed the door open slowly.

Ashlin’s yellow eyes widened, but she made no sound for a minute. “Is he yours?” she asked finally, her golden eyes never meeting him.

Jesse smiled, but shook his head. “Nope.”

“Will’s?”

“Yours,” Jesse promised. “His name is Pepper.”

‡

Ashlin wasn’t in her room like Danny had figured she would be, so he gave up on the attempt to find her. If she wasn’t there, she could be anywhere on the base and he wasn’t up for spending hours looking for her and possibly risking getting lost in the horrible place.

He would have gone back to the training room if he knew that Brandon wasn’t going to be there. He’d had enough of the general for the day, or quite possibly even his whole life. It annoyed Danny that the man never seemed to praise him. If he _did_ praise him it was followed closely by an insult and _that_ cancelled out any praise that he actually made. He didn’t think there was any point in training with someone if there was going to be any sort of praise.

Danny tried to find Will as well, but he seemed to have disappeared along with Ashlin. It annoyed him that nobody informed him of any plans. He tried to shrug it off and continue to wander the halls of the huge, endless building, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being left out.

He wasn’t entirely sure of where he was going, but he carried on. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway. He was in somewhat of a daze, daydreaming about Philadelphia. It looked beautiful in his mind, everything in one piece, not so many people were homeless and they were _happy_. He hardly remembered a time when Philadelphia was in one piece. This place was like nothing he’d ever seen. Danny had seen pictures of the older, better-looking Philadelphia. They’d covered the walls of his home when he was little. Even then he’d tried to imagine what the city would look like if the war had never begun.

He was ripped out of the daydream when he nearly ran into someone before he realized that it was Will. The older boy looked windblown and tired, but for once, he actually looked happy. His ocean blue eyes were bright and shining, much unlike they’d been the past few weeks, and a small, friendly smile danced across his lips. Danny really hated that smile. “Hi, Danny,” he said as he reached out to steady the younger boy as he nearly stumbled to the floor at his feet. “Looking for Ashlin, right?”

Danny stared at him dumbfounded for a slight moment before he shook his head roughly. “No, just wandering,” he answered though he sounded confused, unfocused and uninterested. “Well, no. I _was_ looking for her, but then I couldn’t find her…” He trailed off shrugging his shoulders as he finally focused on Will.

“You started wandering?” Will asked in amusement, his eyebrows raised. How will was finding his boredom amusing, he didn’t know. He wished he did, so he could be a little less bored.

“Well, there isn’t much to do in this horrible place,” Danny said glaring at him, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

“There’s tons of stuff to do around here if you actually look for it,” the dark haired boy said with a sigh as he scratched the top of his head absentmindedly. “Ashlin’s busy right now, but she’s down in the stables if you want to see her still.”

Danny nearly jumped through the roof at Will’s mention of stables. He didn’t realize there was a stable in the place. It didn’t really seem the _place_ for horses either. “There’s a stable here?” he inquired in amazement, his green eyes sparkling in awe.

Will smiled and God, did Danny hate it. “Yep, though it’s not all that great… It’s kind of rundown.”

That didn’t seem to bother Danny as much as Will’s smile did. “Where?”

“Down by the gate.”

“Okay! Thanks, bye!” Danny called over his shoulder before darting down the hall.


	10. Chapter 10

Hunter was a little upset that John had let him go. For once, he’d actually thought that someone cared about him, and it had turned out that he didn’t really. He’d sent him away. Hunter tried to remind himself that he did it to himself. He’d been the one to tell John to leave him alone, that he didn’t want his help. He wondered what John was thinking of him now.

Hunter’s mind turned to Danny.

Danny was _here_. He was somewhere on this base. He could actually see him for the first time in three years.

His brother.

Until he remembered that he couldn’t go near him in case of someone realizing that they were siblings and one of them would get hurt. It made his heart ache, but decided that it would be alright. At least he was in the same place as him for the first time in a while.

He ran a hand through his hair and almost yelled out in pain. His head throbbed like a pulsing heart. He wasn’t sure why his head hurt so badly. As far as he knew, he hadn’t been it in the head. He hoped that someone hadn’t hit him in the head while he was out. He shook the thought away as he swung his legs over the edge of the infirmary bed.

The room reminded him of Danny’s room when they were little. Neat beyond belief. Scary neat. There didn’t seem to be a spec of dirt in the whole room. Hunter was easily the dirtiest thing in the room.

Hunter remembered a time when he’d gone to his brother’s room, the only time that it had been destroyed, which was very unlike his older brother. He had been eight at the time, Danny twelve.

“Did a tornado come through?” Hunter had inquired with an amused glint in his eyes as he stood with his hands holding the edges of his brother’s doorway. There were drawers pulled out on the ground. Papers, clothes and anything that might have been put away neatly at one point was scattered throughout his bedroom.

Danny sat on the hardwood floor staring at it for no apparent reason. He had shaken his head and looked up at Hunter before he finally realized that something was wrong. His eyes were bloodshot as if he’d been crying or possibly just tired. Hunter had never figured out which it was. “I can’t find it,” he had mumbled hoarsely as he looked down at his hands.

Hunter blinked his eyes in confusion. He had no idea what Danny was talking about. “Find what?” He continued to stand in his doorway.

“The stupid book,” Danny grumbled running a hand through his hair savagely before letting it fall limply to his lap with an annoyed glint in his eyes.

He had stared at him, dumbfounded for a minute before he realized his brother meant ‘The Tale of Two Cities’. “Oh,” he mumbled, pulling his hands away from the doorframes of the room. “I thought you left it in the living room?”

The twelve-year-old’s face tightened in frustration. He took a deep breath before pushing himself to his feet. “Can you help me clean this mess up?” he had asked with a sigh, his shoulders drooped in defeat.

Hunter had grinned good-naturedly at his brother. “There’s no way for me to make this place _your_ kind of clean.”

Danny nodded in agreement, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips. “Go grab my book then,” he had told him with a small smile before turning back to his room to clean.

It was a pleasant memory in a certain sense. Before that, he’d never even known that Danny had enjoyed reading. He just thought that it was for the Academy. He’d never seen his room so trashed either. And after that, he’d never seen it like that again.

It made him miss Danny even more, but he knew that it was a bad idea going after him. It was a _terrible_ idea, and it could possibly end up getting one of them, if not both, in trouble at the very least or killed. That was the last thing he wanted now.

His head was still throbbing, though it wasn’t as nearly as bad as it had been at first. At the foot of the shady bed was a small, also shady looking, mirror. Hunter didn’t remember the last time he’d seen a mirror… It had to have been before he’d been caught by John’s men.

He looked absolutely terrible, though he was certain that he’d looked worse earlier, before the doctors had seen to him. His hair was a tangled, curly mess. A cut enveloped by a dark bruise took up most of his forehead, making him cringe. There were plenty of other tiny cuts across his face, but the one on his forehead topped it off. He was sure if he looked at his chest he would find bruises and possibly a broken rib or two. He didn’t _feel_ the pain right now since he had enough painkillers in him to take away most of the pain, but he was fairly certain that Smith had broken something.

“Admiring yourself?” came a voice from the doorway.

“Jesus Christ,” Hunter muttered jumping as he sharply sucked in a breath. His chest ached. He blinked away the pain as he turned to see the person. It was a young man that _might_ have been in his early twenties. A messy wave of black hair topped his head, with a set of blazing blue eyes just beneath. Something about him reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Sorry,” he said smiling apologetically. “Brandon said to come meet you. I figured since you’d been injured a friendly face could do you some good,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders keeping his arm on the doorframe to keep himself balanced. “I’m Will Murray,” he began when Hunter said nothing.

Hunter blinked his eyes in surprise, realizing why he’d thought the boy looked familiar. “Hunter Richards,” he replied, his astonishment not very well hidden. “I—you’re related to John Murray?”

“Oh, you’ve met the man, then,” Will said wrinkling his nose in distaste as he shook his head. “Yeah, he’s my uncle.” He smiled again, though it looked worn. “I don’t like to associate myself with him. He’s… Not the best role-model right now,” he said with a snort. “I’m assuming you’re related to the brave and almighty Daniel Richards?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow, seemingly amused by his own words.

Hunter found it hard not to laugh at the older boy’s description of Danny. “Ah, I see you’ve met him,” he said biting back a smile. “He’s a show off.”

Will nodded in agreement. “So I’ve noticed,” he grinned. “But, he _is_ brave. He ran through a fire. He might’ve saved our friend’s life doing that,” he said.

He stared back at Will in amazement. Danny, _his_ Danny, had run through fire? As far as Hunter knew, Danny was terrified of fire. “Really?” he asked. Will nodded again. “Wow,” he murmured, green eyes glancing toward the ceiling. “Did you trade him for a new person? That doesn’t sound like him.”

Will threw his head back and laughed. “No, no,” he promised. “You put a girl in the equation, and I’m sure you’re going to try to help. You should have seen him earlier.” Will rolled his eyes, though the expression looked a little pained. “Ran off down the hall the moment I told him where she was.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at that. Danny wasn’t one known for chasing after girls. He only ever chased people if they had something he wanted, and not many had what he wanted. As sweet as his older brother could be, Hunter knew that he could be pretty devious and determined when he wanted. “Doesn’t sound much like him,” he admitted. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him running after anyone.”

Will’s smile almost disappeared. Hunter swore he saw him grimace. “Only takes the right one.”

‡

As it turned out, Will had been right about the stables being run down, but it didn’t really seem to bother Danny too much. He was more interested in the horses in the stables than the stables themselves. Sure, he’d seen horses before, but he’d never touched one, never ridden one, and definitely had never been as close as he was now to them. They were beautiful creatures, though their teeth did worry him.

Ashlin was busily brushing Will’s horse when he arrived there, sitting with her legs in front of her. Danny had run the whole way there and was gasping for breath by the time he reached the doors. He suspected that Will thought he’d come running down there for Ashlin, but in all truth, he had wanted to see the stables more than anything though finding Ashlin wasn’t a bad plus. She hardly acknowledged him as he stood slightly beside her staring the horse down.

Ashlin looked up from the horse and stifled her laughter, noticing the staring contest. “I think he doesn’t like men,” she stated. “But if he likes Jesse then it must be because you and Will smell funny.”

Danny flashed a glare at her before returning his gaze back to the horse. “Funny,” he muttered with a snort.

“I am very funny,” she announced, letting her hand fall to her side with the brush still gripped tightly. “I’m even funny in other languages. _Vous voulez entendre une blague en français_?” she inquired tilting her head to the side as she spoke fluently in what he suspected was French.

“No,” Danny answered scowling, but not taking his eyes away from the horse.

“You’re no fun,” Ashlin proclaimed holding her head high as she pushed herself to her feet. “ _Beth am stori yn y Grmraeg_?” When he didn’t answer, she continued as she walked away. “I can speak Spanish pretty well… _Había una vez un muchacho que tenía un concurso de miradas con un caballo. Lo encontré estúpido él podría no ser molestado a escuchar. En realidad, no se ni siquiera si sabe lo que es_ —”

Danny finally tore his gaze away from the horse. “I can speak Spanish as well,” he snorted. “‘Once there was a boy who had a staring contest with a horse. I found it stupid, but he could not be bothered to listen. Actually, I’m not sure if he knows what listening is’,” he translated with an irritable glance at her. “Spanish is the only language I learned in the Academy, but I know it very well,” he said sticking his tongue out at her.

“I can speak Russian as well, and I highly doubt that you would understand it,” she said with a bright smile, ignoring his annoyance. “It took me forever to learn, and _I_ still have problems with it,” Ashlin continued. “ _Хотели_ _бы_ _вы_ _чашку_ _чая_?” she inquired and then squinted as if she was trying to make sure she had said the right thing.

“No idea what you said, but I’m willing to bet that the answer is probably no,” he said as he held out a hand for Charlie to sniff. The horse took one whiff before jerking his muzzle away with a snort. “Hmph,” Danny grumbled.

“I asked if you would like a cup of tea,” she said, her golden eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Definitely a no then,” Danny sighed. “What’s this horse have against me?” he inquired throwing a glance at Ashlin for a moment before glancing back at the horse again.

“I told you,” she said smiling at him, “you smell funny.” Danny scoffed before trying to reach out and pet Charlie again. “Leave the poor boy be. He might try to stomp on you and I’m not going to feel sorry about it,” she warned. Danny’s shoulders drooped as he took a step away from Charlie, letting his hand swing freely at his side. “Maybe if Will agrees, I’ll take you and Charlie out. He needs to get used to strangers anyway.”

“Strangers?” Danny echoed with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah because you, Will and I are going out to look for Jesse later,” Ashlin explained, her tone mild. “Did Brandon not tell you?”

“Does the man tell me _anything_?” he muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes. “When’s this supposed to be?”

She shrugged her shoulders, her golden eyes focused on Charlie. “Not sure. He only said after your promotion. Could be tomorrow, could be ten years from now,” she said with a snort, her eyes flickering up for a moment before returning to Charlie. “Have you never seen a horse before?” she inquired finally returning her full attention to Danny with a raised eyebrow. “Because you keep staring at Charlie like he’s the greatest thing the world has to offer.”

Danny’s eyes snapped to Ashlin. “Not this close. Do you know how many horses are in Philadelphia? Not that many,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to pet him.”

“Well, he obviously isn’t in the mood for you petting him. _Ceffyl anianol_ ,” she muttered in a language that Danny didn’t understand at all.

“What?” Danny asked before he could stop himself.

“Temperamental horse,” she muttered flashing him a glare. “Don’t try to keep up with my languages. They’re no fun if you keep asking what I’m saying,” she sighed and patted Charlie’s muzzle earning a nicker from him. “They’re meant to annoy you,” she added tossing Danny another teasing look over her shoulder.

“Well, you don’t have to try hard for that,” he said with a grin, earning himself a kick to the shin from Ashlin. He bit his lip as he held his leg up reflexively as he looked up at her with an air of hurt. “That’s not very nice of you.”

“Maybe _you_ should’ve been nice first,” she suggested as she kissed Charlie’s muzzle and then turned to face him. “I wouldn’t have to kick you if you were nice in the first place.”

“If I _were_ nice.”

‡

For the first half hour of walking he’d been in tears. Jesse felt absolutely terrible for leaving Pepper lying on the ground. He’d been his friend…and he had left him there to die.

After an hour of walking he wasn’t even sure he _was_ walking. It felt more like he was stumbling around numbly, unsure of where he was. He was sure he’d gone in the direction of the base, but it was nowhere in sight.

After nearly three hours of stumbling around aimlessly he finally lost his footing and landed painfully on his knees, his arms dangling uselessly at his sides. He took one last final breath before his eyes fluttered shut and he slumped forward on the rocky ground.

‡

“Jesse,” said the familiar, bright voice of a little girl. She came bouncing up to him with her teeth shining in a happy smile. “Daddy said I could go see the horses!” she announced throwing her hands up in excitement.

He felt his lips pull up on both sides into a smile. “Let’s go see them then,” he said holding out a hand for her to take, which she did happily. He loved showing Ashlin the horses. It was something that both of them enjoyed and it was something that calmed him down. He could tell that it took a lot of restrain holding her back from dashing forward to get to the horses, but she stayed right with him, a bounce of eagerness in her step, sending her blonde curls flying every time she took a step.

“Did you bring S’calibur?” she inquired curiously.

Jesse’s smile widened at the way she pronounced the name of his horse. His name was Excalibur, but she’d always had a hard time pronouncing it, so usually she just called him Cali. “Of course,” he replied with the dip of his head in a nod. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I thought you had more than one horse, so maybe you could’ve brought a different one?” she suggested.

Jesse did have to agree with her on that. “True,” he decided with a nod. “But, Cali’s my favorite,” he said with a grin. “And one day, I’m gonna let you have one of my horses and you can live with us on the ranch!” he said pressing a silly smile.

Ashlin pulled her hand away from his and covered her mouth in astonishment. “Really?” she inquired, her yellow eyes round with curiosity.

Jesse nodded, sending strands of his dusty brown hair into his eyes. “Of course,” he grinned. “Why not?” He pushed the door open and held it for her as she walked through glancing up at the ceiling as if she was looking for something.

She shrugged her shoulders again. “I thought Will didn’t like me, maybe he didn’t want me to be there,” she mumbled rubbing her face with her pudgy fingers.

Jesse seemed taken aback by that. “Will likes you,” he promised. “Why wouldn’t he? He just doesn’t like getting beat by a girl,” he laughed. Ashlin beamed at him.

“Momma says it’s always better to be stronger than boys,” she said with her head held high.

Jesse shook his head with a happy smile. “She would say that,” he agreed.

Her mother allowed her to learn fighting techniques that her father, Brandon, had protested against but in the end had lost. He was even more surprised when Ashlin had told him she was learning French and Spanish and had planned to learn Welsh and Russian in the future. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t do it. The seven-year-old girl was _definitely_ capable of doing whatever she wanted. It was her determination about the whole thing that surprised him. French washer mother’s native language as well as his, and it made him a little happier at the thought of being able to speak to her in French. There was never an end to the surprises with Ashlin. She would come up one day speaking horrible Spanish or French and the next she would come in speaking a perfect mixture of the two. For a little girl her age to know so many languages… It was overwhelming.

“…said I could come to the ranch sometime,” she was saying as smiling brilliantly at him.

Although he hadn’t heard the entirety of what she’d said, he assumed she had said Jessica would allow her to visit the ranch. It definitely wasn’t something that Brandon would say. “You can sleep in my room,” he offered. “It’s got a perfect view of the stables,” he beamed. She squeaked in excitement at that. “You can have my bed. I’ll sleep in my chair,” he added with a thoughtful glance at the younger girl.

Ashlin smiled. “Are you sure?” she asked, her head tilted to the side slightly in question with her eyebrows winged up anxiously. “I can sleep in—”

Jesse shook his head as he yawned. “Nope, you can have the bed. It’s got a better view of the stables and I always see them. Here we are!”

Ashlin squealed when she saw Excalibur and then darted toward him without another word to Jesse. The horse seemed surprised by Ashlin’s reaction, but he didn’t overreact, which Jesse was grateful for. The horse was Jesse’s age, eight. The horse had been his since the day he’d been born. He was sweet tempered—a big plus. He dipped his head that was nearly the size of Ashlin and sniffed her hair gently before he noticed Jesse walking up to them.

“Hey, Excalibur,” he said with a smile as he approached the horse. The giant Friesian neighed at him before returning his attention to the little blonde girl standing at his side.

“Why’s he so big?” Ashlin asked in wonder as she ran her hand down the horse’s shoulder.

“ _Pourquoi êtes-vous si petite_?” Jesse asked teasingly. Excalibur wasn’t really that tall, he stood a little shorter than Jesse’s dad, Riley, who was only six foot. But Ashlin, being only seven years old, was barely four foot.

“Because I like being short,” she retorted with a snort. But she didn’t. Ashlin was constantly complaining that she was shorter than the Murray boys. “Can we ride him?” she inquired. “Jesse?” she asked when he didn’t answer. “Jesse?”

‡

Jesse blinked his eyes open breathing heavily, his eyes darting everywhere as if he expected to find a miniature Ashlin somewhere at his feet. But he didn’t. His eyes, instead, found an unfamiliar room. Everything about the room bothered him. He didn’t recognize anything.

“Good, you’re awake. I was beginnin’ to think you weren’t gonna wake up,” said a man sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed that Jesse was sitting up on.

“I—Uh—What? Where am I?” he demanded weakly, as his blue eyes focused on the scruffy looking man as they adjusted to the dimly lit room.

The man stood up and came to stand beside him. “That’sa lotta questions for someone who almost had a heatstroke. You could’ve died, bud.”

Jesse’s eyes fluttered shut at his words. “Where am I?” he repeated, quieter this time.

“Couple miles south of the base,” the man answered finally, though it sounded unwilling. “You aren’t goin’ anywhere for a while boy. You’re starving, dehydrated, an’ ya almost died out there.” Jesse stretched his fingers out before clenching them into impatient fists. “You were mumbling a name,” he said, eyebrows stretching up in amusement. “Ashlin.”

Jesse felt himself nod almost immediately, though it was involuntary. “I was dreaming about her,” he muttered. The dream was one of his favorite memories of her, though now he knew the plans of her coming to the ranch wouldn’t happen. The ranch was gone, and her horse was lying somewhere in the Arizona desert possibly dead.

“Mmm, well you eat and drink a bit, alright?”

Jesse nodded again. “Alright,” he mumbled.

‡

John smiled to himself as he leaned back in his seat. By now Brandon would have Hunter. He would have seen the boy and instantly thought of James. And from James, he would think of _him_.

He was a warning and a present.

One that said he was coming. The waiting game was over.


	11. Chapter 11

“I,” Danny started with his right hand raised and his left hand balled into a fist at his side, “Daniel Jensen Richards, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to the regulations of the Uniform of Military Justice. So help me God.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt a sort of pressure lift off his chest and shoulders though he knew nothing had really been there. When he opened his eyes, he looked up to see Ashlin smiling at him from the stands of the arena with Will standing beside her looking at him with something close to disappointment.

Brandon nodded shortly. “ _Second lieutenant_ ,” he said, “I believe you’re being sent out to look for a missing person?”

“Mmm,” he said nodding, ignoring the look that Brandon gave him when he didn’t say sir. “Yes, of course,” he said before returning Ashlin’s smile. He gestured for the two of them to come down to the middle of the arena, blocking out the stare that Brandon was giving him.

Ashlin made it down first, and nearly bowled him over giving him a tight hug. “Congrats,” she said beaming at him. “Jesse?” she inquired with a glance at Brandon.

Brandon gave her the shortest of nods. “Yes,” he said turning away before Will greeted them. Danny was sure that there was a scowl planted across the general’s face.

“Congratulations,” Will told Danny offering him a small smile, though Danny couldn’t help but notice the disappointment still clouding the older boy’s face. “We’re going out to look for Jesse then?” he inquired with a questioning tilt of his head.

Danny nodded. “We’re going Jesse hunting,” he said, his green eyes sparkling with laughter even though he knew he shouldn’t joke. “Anything we’re going to need?”

“Food—” Ashlin started.

“Muffins?”

“ _No_ , no muffins,” Ashlin said shaking her head wildly. “We’re not taking _any_ kind of muffins. We’re taking _real_ food with us,” she said with a stern glare at Danny. “Some extra gas and clothes I think.”

“Clothes?” Danny asked with a raised eyebrow, the muffins forgotten. He doubted they would need clothes if they were just looking around farms.

“You know, just in case I feel like shooting you because you’re annoying,” she said with a snort as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“You don’t have a gun,” he pointed out.

“You think she can’t get that gun off your hip?” Will laughed gesturing toward the pistol in its holster on Danny’s hip. “If I were you, I’d be running and hiding from the girl. She’s a public menace.”

That earned him a jab in the ribs from Ashlin’s elbow. “A menace of many languages,” she corrected with a giant smile. “ _Ahora, vamos a encontrar la fugitiva_ ,” she said.

Will scowled at her. “He’s not a runaway,” he muttered.

“You speak Spanish now?” she inquired with an amazed glint in her eyes.

“I’ve always known some Spanish,” Will sighed as he shook his head.

“ _I_ know Spanish,” Danny offered as he looked around the arena, which was now mostly empty except for a few of the recruits. Not that too many had come for the ceremony in the first place.

“Hush,” Ashlin said rolling her golden eyes. “Let’s go. We’re on a mission to fetch a dusty haired boy.”

“And his horse,” Will added.

Ashlin’s yellow eyes darkened at the mention of the horse. “You don’t really think he made it through, do you?” she murmured with a frown. “It’s been nearly four months,” she muttered. “Even if Jesse’s out there… How likely do you think it is that Pepper is too?” Will bit his lip and fell silent. “Sorry,” Ashlin sighed, gaze softening.

Will nodded and then seemed to forget the topic. “Alright, well, pack what you need. Apparently no muffins for you,” he said looking at Danny who looked like he’d just seen someone shoot a puppy, “and meet us down by the gate near the stables.”

“We’re taking horses?” Danny inquired with a raised eyebrow, his eyes gleaming eagerly at the thought.

“Yes, that’s obviously why we need gas.”

‡

After a night’s worth of sleep Hunter felt a little better even though the cuts and bruises he’d sustained felt a lot worse. He assumed the reason he felt better had to do with the food and water he was receiving. It was fresh and clean, which was a big difference to what he had been getting before. The chat with Will yesterday made him wonder about Danny. His brother was always one of the most committed, though Hunter knew if his brother had his heart set on it, he’d do whatever it took to get the job done.

He pushed the thoughts away as he rolled over the side of the bed and sat on the floor for several minutes before finally deciding that if a nurse or doctor found him on the ground like this they would bother him for hours on end. He didn’t bother dressing himself, it hurt too much to move that much, instead he just pushed his way out of his infirmary room and nearly got ran over by one of the doctors. The man just threw him an annoyed look and hurried off to wherever he was supposed to be going.

The place was so clean that it was starting to bother him. He realized that it _needed_ to be clean and sterile since it was a hospital… But he still hated it.

“Um, Mister Richards?” said the soft voice of a nurse from his left, making him jump and swear inwardly. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” she asked with a gesture toward the door he’d just stumbled through.

Hunter shook his head, sending dark tangles of hair in front of his green eyes. “Can’t lay there forever,” he said rubbing his forehead and pushing his messy hair back, vowing to find something to cut it later.

She sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Just be careful,” she warned before she hurried away without a second glance at him.

He shrugged his shoulders and continued through the scary clean infirmary. He received a few questionable looks from doctors, but didn’t get any more questions.

He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going. It wasn’t as if he knew where anything was on the base, but it was better than laying in a bed all day long doing absolutely nothing except talking to the occasional stranger—which was _not_ one of his strong suits.

Once he made it to the front door of the infirmary he knew where he was—kind of. He remembered the short walk there from the cafeteria. The cafeteria actually sounded like a pleasant place to be right now. He could do with some actual food instead of soup and crackers. Man, did he hate soup and crackers. He pushed memories from when he was little away. He couldn’t take any more of the memories pushing their way to the surface at random times. Not when he couldn’t see Danny.

“What are you doing out of the infirmary?” demanded the strict voice from behind him sounding like what Hunter remembered to be General Stillwater’s voice.

He jumped at the sound of his voice. Hunter hadn’t expected anyone to question him on his way to the cafeteria, though he guessed he had a good reason to be asking him why he was out. He probably looked like he was stumbling own the halls aimlessly, and he was still in the baggy white clothes that the doctors had given him. He supposed he looked like the questionable type at the moment. “I—Um… I wanted to get some food from the cafeteria,” he stammered as he turned on his heels to face the general.

The general quirked an eyebrow, his brown eyes scanning him while he probably wondered what doctor had allowed him out of the infirmary. “You couldn’t ask them to bring something back from the cafeteria?” he inquired suspiciously.

Hunter started to open his mouth to respond, but instead shook his head. “No,” he ended up saying. “I wanted some fresh air,” he added, watching Brandon’s expression change from suspicion to annoyance. Fresh air, in Hunter’s opinion, was always welcome, especially after being in a cage for almost two years straight.

General Stillwater muttered something under his breath that Hunter didn’t catch before he shook his head. “Just don’t get into trouble,” he muttered before pushing past him and hurrying ahead.

Hunter stared after in confusion. He decided that he was warning him on the assumption that he was like Danny and his brother had done stupid things. That he didn’t want him to act like his brother. _Well_ , he thought to himself with a snort of amusement, _it’s too late for that._

‡

By the time Danny reached the gate, Ashlin and Will had both been waiting there for him for nearly ten minutes. She should have known that he would take longer than they would, especially since all he really grabbed was food. And tons of it. She swore that one day that he was going to be fat.

Throwing the thought away she loaded the truck and forced Danny to get into the crew cab in the back. Apparently the last ride in the truck on the way to the base was still fresh in his mind. Ashlin wasn’t sure he didn’t like the truck. Sure, it was old, but to her, old was better. Old made her remember times before bad things happened, when she still had people to count on.

“Are you sure the truck isn’t going to fall out from beneath us?” Danny inquired as Will got into the passenger seat beside Ashlin.

“Not scared to fight a girl or have a bullet go past your head, but you’re terrified of an old truck,” she muttered rolling her eyes as she turned the key in the ignition and put the truck in gear. Beside her she felt Will laugh silently. “No,” she told Danny over her shoulder with a sigh. “Will, do you think this truck will fall apart?”

Will shook his head wildly, his hair hitting her in the face, which she batted away with a scowl. “Nope,” he said cheerily. “If it was, I wouldn’t have gotten in the thing,” he promised with a smile back at Danny.

“See?”

He snorted in the backseat. “Yeah, except for that little part of me being dead,” he muttered glaring at her through the rearview mirror with his arms folded across his chest.

Ashlin smiled innocently. “Then don’t think about it,” she offered sweetly. She eased her foot on the gas and then the truck lurched forward. She smiled to herself when Danny fell forward and caught himself on the back of her seat. “We’re just driving out to the first farm and scouting it out. It’s about a mile from the gate.”

The only sort of response she received was a deadly glare from Danny in the backseat.

The truck was hers—hers since Jessica’s death. It had memories running back years everywhere in it; stains from food and crayons, rips in the back leather seats, dents in the doors. Memories of her mother alone. There were somethings that nothing could ever replace.

She tried to focus on the sandy-rocky landscape ahead of them as the truck rumbled on, but found it hard to do so. Memories would only make the trip worse. It already _was_ worse. Even though she had snapped at Danny for asking about Will and Jesse not being there… She had missed them. Jesse had been her childhood friend. Her _only_ friend besides her mother really. Both of them had been torn away from her. But there was a small part of her that was at east that _something_ had happened to the Murray boys. It was almost like a way of getting back at them for never being there after Jessica died. She felt a little guilty at the thought.

“What’re you thinking?” Will inquired quietly as he glanced at her, his blue eyes clouded with concern.

She blinked the memories away and shook her head. She kept her eyes on the horizon. “Just thinking about how I’m going to punch Jesse when I find him.”

Ashlin saw Will smile out of the corner of her eye. Little did he know she _was_ actually planning to punch him. “He might punch you back,” he grinned.

Ashlin snorted in amusement at the notion. “I doubt it. Danny can hardly hit me—”

“Can too!” he protested loudly behind her with a frown and a kick to the back of her seat.

“—without being yelled at to do it,” she finished, her golden eyes flickering toward Will for a slight moment.

The older boy’s hair had always bothered her. His hair was black, while Jesse’s and his mother’s hair had been blonde and his father’s had been brown. The brothers looked almost the same otherwise. Their eyes, noses, cheekbones, all of it mirrored the other. Their hair was the only thing that ruined the mirror image. When they were little it had bothered her to no extent. Jesse’s hair had been dusty brown and wavy while Will’s had been jet-black and almost straight. Complete opposites, almost like their personalities, she realized. She’d always assumed that Will dyed his hair since he’d always been the odd one out, but learned he didn’t when she was around nine years old.

Will waved a hand in front of her frantically. “Earth to Ashlin. Are we _stopping_? Or are we _CRASHING_?” he demanded, his voice crashing through her thoughts.

Ashlin realized the truck was less than twenty yards from a brick building. “Shit. Yes,” she muttered slamming her foot as hard as she could on the brakes. She heard Danny swear under his breath when the truck finally jerked to a halt.

“Jesus,” Danny sighed, his eyes focused on her through the rearview mirror. “Pay attention.”

She would’ve smiled had they not almost crashed into a brick building. Instead, she just shook her head and muttered, “Sorry.”

Danny scowled at her before he climbed out of the truck. “Yeah, you better be,” he mumbled.

Will gave her a reassuring, small smile. “You’re fine,” he promised. “And if not, Danny’ll make you be fine.”

Ashlin forced a smile as she yanked the keys out of the ignition. “I’m sure he will,” she sighed. She pushed the door of the truck cab open and slid out of the leather seat, landing heavily on the uneven ground.

“So, are we just knocking on the door and asking ‘Yo, you got any blonde boys hanging around?’” Danny inquired, forest green eyes gleaming in amusement.

Ashlin shook her head as she rolled her eyes at him. “No, you’re knocking and asking, _like a civilized person_ , if he knows about any teenage boys named Jesse,” she said with a scowl. “And if you say ‘yo’ again, I’m going to beat you up.”

“Why me?” he complained defensively, ignoring the fact that she’d just threatened him.

“You’re a second lieutenant. And you’re the only one here with a pistol,” she muttered heaving an irritated sigh. “Now, go on.”

Danny frowned at her one more time before he turned away from them and started toward the farmhouse.

“He’s going to break something,” Will decided with a hand to his forehead as he watched him walk away from them.

Ashlin sighed again and nodded in agreement. “Probably.”

‡

Jesse leaned back against the uncomfortable headboard of his bed with a sigh. He was beginning to regret ever leaving the small farmhouse more and more by the minute. It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Now…It just seemed stupid. Pepper was dead and Will was probably still freaking out about it, and Jesse was homesick.

The man had been nice enough to give him _some_ water, though it wasn’t very much. He also left him a couple sandwiches that looked suspiciously moldy. Jesse hadn’t touched any of it in fear that he’d just end up sicker than he already was.

After he woke up again, the man had disappeared. Jesse wasn’t sure where he’d gone exactly, or what he was doing, but he was grateful for it. He could only take some much of concerned adults hovering over him.

He was tired of the dreams. Every time he fell asleep he dreamed of Ashlin, or Will, or his parents—Riley and Emilie. He hated dreaming about them, especially his parents. He hated the memories that it brought with them.

Jesse had been the one to receive the news in the middle of the night. He’d stood there in disbelief as Captain Darling tried to comfort him. Jesse knew that it had been a mistake. He’d known who the real target had been. It would have been Brandon Stillwater, which had made him feel even worse at the time. It would have left Ashlin an orphan. He knew that the whole plan had been John’s idea. His parents’ death hadn’t been intentional, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

Jesse wanted to believe that it hadn’t been John’s fault. He really did. But he’d blown up the truck that Jessica and Ashlin were in and killed Jessica. _Intentionally_. And then his parents had been shot. He couldn’t believe John and he’d known that Will didn’t believe it for a second either.

But for some reason, he couldn’t help but want to trust his uncle. He knew that he shouldn’t, not after he’d purposefully killed his friend’s mother and hurt his best friend… but yet there were still so many good memories of John. When they still lived in France he used to play in the garden with Will and him. And even when they came to America they’d still been close. He’d gone horseback riding with Jesse, and gone on a vacation with them in Canada when he was five. But somewhere along the way, something had snapped in him.

“You alright, kiddo?” the man asked as he poked his head around the doorframe.

 _He_ would _be around now_ , Jesse thought to himself as he heaved a sigh, pushing away the thoughts of his uncle. “I—Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he said waving his hand. “Just dizzy.”

He raised his eyebrows in concern. “You sure? I don’t want a dead body lying around my house,” he said offering him a small smile that Jesse tried to mirror, but couldn’t force it.

Jesse nodded, ocean blue eyes fixed on the dusty floor. “Yep, I’m fine,” he murmured. He ran a hand through his rough, dusty blonde hair and then let his hand drop to his side, realizing that the man wasn’t going anywhere. “You never told me your name.”

The man shook his head at Jesse’s curiosity. “Luke Cole,” he said. “And I’m guessing you’re name’s Jesse. Got your last name on your bag there. An’ I only know of two Murray boys. And the other one’s got black hair. William, I think.”

Jesse stared at him suspiciously, but what Luke said was true. Murray _was_ stitched onto his bag, though how he knew about Will and himself otherwise he wasn’t sure. “Yeah, I am,” he said furrowing his eyebrows. “How do you know about us…?”

“I know your uncle,” Luke said, his smile growing, though it now looked more sinister than it had before. “Guess you could say we’re close friends.”

‡

Will heard Danny heave a sigh of irritation before turning back to him. “Alright, are we _done_? I’ve not seen any boys with blonde hair or blue eyes like you said,” he grumbled, his green eyes gleaming in agitation.

Will supposed Danny was right. They had looked all over the farm for the last hour and a half without a single sign of Jesse. He bit his lip, wanting to stay and look more, but knew that if they did Danny would only become crankier. But he didn’t want to go back. Going back meant giving into Brandon and saying that there was no way of finding Jesse. But he nodded anyway. “Call Ashlin over, I’ll get our stuff. I’m not letting her drive this time. We might crash into the gate. I don’t think we want to be electrified.”

Danny grinned at that. “Mmm, fried Danny. Sounds delicious,” he snorted before he jogged away to find Ashlin.

He had hoped that they would have a little luck on the first day out, but he should’ve known better than to hope. He’d never really had any sort of luck in all his life, to think this time would be any different was apparently too much to ask for. Still he hoped that he would find Jesse soon.

He nearly tripped over his feet as he walked toward the truck. He hated it out here. The uneven ground made him feel clumsy when he wasn’t.

“Will!” Ashlin called from behind him. “Danny said you’re driving. You can _drive_?” She sounded a little bewildered at the idea of him driving.

Will rolled his eyes as he turned around but continued to walk toward the truck. “Yes, I know how to drive,” he called back shaking his head as he swiveled back around. “Just because I grew up on a farm doesn’t mean I can’t drive,” he muttered to himself with a tiny sigh.

She caught up with him finally and stayed a step ahead of him. “Are you _really_ sure you can drive? I don’t want to die.”

Will sighed inwardly. “Yes, Ashlin,” he promised. “ _I’m_ not the one who almost ran us through a brick building,” he added as he stuck his tongue out at her.

She scowled at him as she folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, well, you both knew I could drive,” she protested. “I’ve never seen you drive before. If it’s _anything_ like the way you get along with horses then I really don’t want to get in,” she said, her eyes watching him as she tried to decide whether or not she really wanted him to drive.

Will was about to tell her that she could walk when Danny came up behind them with a grin on his face as he shoved something in his mouth. He had a strong suspicion that it was a muffin.

“Avootriedevemuffinset?”

“What?” Ashlin inquired, her face screwed up half in confusion, half in annoyance.

Danny swallowed the food in his mouth and cleared his throat. “I _said_ , have you tried these muffins yet?”

Ashlin sighed and rolled her eyes. “No, because I swore I told you not to bring them in the first place,” she muttered.

Danny quickly looked away. “I don’t remember that,” he said innocently. “Anyway… Will, are you still driving?” he inquired, doing his best to ignore the disapproving look Ashlin was giving him.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. She hasn’t given me the keys yet and she thinks I’m going to get us killed,” he reported with a sweet smile in Ashlin’s direction.

Danny scoffed, turning his attention to Ashlin as he took another bite of the muffin. “ _You_ were the one that almost crashed us into a building!” He made a face at her. “I’ll drive,” he offered before shoving the rest of the muffin in his mouth.

“Oh, dear God no,” Ashlin said, her golden eyes widening as she shook her head. “No, you’ll break my truck,” she decided. With a huff, she pulled the keys out of her jacket pocket and handed them over to Will, none too kindly. Danny opened his mouth to argue, but must have thought better it because he clamped his mouth shut. “Are you gonna drive or what?” she demanded as she climbed in the passenger door with a distasteful glance at Will and Danny.

Will sighed with an upward glance at the sky. “Impatient woman,” he muttered under his breath before jerking the truck door open. “Actually, I was hoping that we could crash into the gate—”

“William,” Ashlin said sternly in the kind of tone that he normally would have taken as ‘Shut up.’

But he didn’t this time. “—and maybe have a fried teenager party. I bet Brandon would just _love_ that,” he proposed with a grin in her direction. Ashlin only glared at him.

Danny slammed his door behind him. “Did I miss something?”

“Just my idea of running into the gate and throwing a fried teenager party,” Will said throwing the words over his shoulder watching Danny’s reaction in the mirror.

The younger boy nodded and then looked at Ashlin curiously. “Well, she doesn’t seem too pleased with that idea,” he allowed, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Will assumed he was biting his tongue to keep from saying anything else stupid that could result in either one of them being kicked out of the truck.

Ashlin scowled up at the visor and muttered, “Boys are so stupid.”

Will only grinned.

‡

Jesse stared at Luke. “I… I’m sorry?” he stammered. He swore that his heart stopped beating for a moment. How on Earth had John managed to find someone to search for him out in the desert? He thought he was finally free of his uncle… Apparently he’d been wrong.

Luke rolled his hazel eyes. “For how smart your parents were, you’re pretty stupid,” he muttered and then sighed. “Now, I know you don’ like your uncle—”

“No,” Jesse said icily, his teeth grinding together in frustration. “There’s a difference between not liking and hating someone. I don’t _like_ Will. I don’t _like_ the military. I _hate_ John. He’s _killed_ people. He killed _innocent_ people.” He stared at Luke in complete disbelief. “He’s killed people. He took my parents away from me. He started this stupid ass war. _He didn’t have to do ANY OF IT_!” he yelled, his chest aching.

Luke blinked, taken aback by Jesse’s sudden outburst. “Son—” he started.

“I’m _not_ your son. I’m not _anyone’s_ son,” Jesse snarled. “Not anymore. If you just would have left me out there, I could have gotten away from this. From _John_.” The man opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “I don’t care if you think you know him. _I_ know him. I _grew up_ with him. You _do not know that man_.”

Jesse waited a moment before he slid off the bed and pushed past Luke, who was too surprised to do anything. He walked toward the front door of the small house. He’d left his bag in Luke’s house, but he didn’t care anymore. He was not going to let himself be surrounded by John’s men if he could help it. They were stupid, arrogant and ignorant. If he came across a place with supplies, he would take it. If not, he didn’t care. If he could get away from John and the rest of the idiots running the war, he was fine with it.

He was a little surprised when Luke didn’t follow him, but at the same time, he was relieved. The last thing he needed was one of John’s insane henchmen following him around.

Jesse looked back at Luke’s house for a short moment before hurrying away with his fists jammed into the pockets of his jacket that now looked like something had mauled and died on it and then _tried_ to be cleaned. But he hugged it close anyway. His clothes were the last thing he had of home.

‡

Hunter ended up in the infirmary again, though it was entirely against his will. He didn’t want to go back there. He felt imprisoned in his tiny room, and it didn’t help much that he wasn’t served the best of food. Every once in a while a nurse came in the room to check on him to make sure he hadn’t died, or killed himself, or whatever it was they thought was going to happen to him.

He wasn’t sure what time it was. He knew that it was sometime in the evening, but besides the fact that it was evening time, Hunter had no real idea as to how late it was. There weren’t windows in the room—which he found weird, because whenever he pictured an infirmary there were windows everywhere—and there was no clock.

Hunter pushed himself out of his bed and padded silently toward the door of his room. He opened it just enough to peek out the door to see if anyone was in the main lobby. Once he decided that the room was decently packed, he slipped out of his room, closing the door silently behind him before hurrying for the front doors of the infirmary.

The hallways were dimly lit with the crappy lighting that the buildings were filled with and the orange light from the setting sun that poured through the hallway windows. He decided that it had to be around eight o’clock at the very least.

Without thinking about where he was really going, he ended up in the cafeteria. It might not have been one of the best places, but it definitely wasn’t the one of the worst places to end up.

He walked suspiciously toward the food that was sitting out. Why food was sitting out at eight o’clock at night, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to argue. Food wasn’t something he would push away. He scooped up what looked like nacho cheese and grabbed a cup of what he thought was punch. It seemed more like party food than military food to him, but he pushed the thought away as he started back toward the infirmary. He finished the punch off before he even got to the door, the liquid burning the back of his throat.

‡

Hunter stumbled down the hall, his vision slightly blurred and his senses dulled. He thought he heard the sound of a door being opened further down the hall and for a moment felt the sense of dread overcome him. What if someone caught him out while he was like this? He pushed the thought from his mind and continued down the hall. He wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get drunk in the first place. He didn’t drink alcohol and he was pretty sure he hadn’t had any.

“Are you…drunk?” The sweet voice caught Hunter’s attention. He turned in the direction of the voice. “Oh my God. You are…” She sighed as she hurried into the hallway, worried for some reason. Hunter wasn’t sure why. “What’s your name?” she demanded as she pushed him toward the door.

“You’re cute,” he blubbered, trying to look at her over his shoulder as he stumbled in the doorway. He still wasn’t sure why she was even pushing him into a room.

She sighed impatiently as she shut the door behind them. “What’s your name?” she repeated, clearly not finding it funny.

“Huner Ri’rds,” he slurred as he tried to smile at her. Man, she was pretty. He reached out to try to touch her blonde hair. She took a step back, scowling at him. “Don’ like me,” he mumbled, glancing up at her in confusion.

She stared at him like he was stupid. “You’re drunk,” she stated, scoffing.

“Yeahh? An’ you’re pretty. Can we stop stating obvious…things?” he murmured, staring at her. Her eyes were a beautiful golden color. “C’mon, just a kiss,” he said. He took a step forward and ended up almost falling forward on his face. And he would’ve if she hadn’t caught him. He looked up at her sheepishly before trying to kiss her, but his lips only met empty air. “C’mon,” he mumbled, trying to conjure up the most puppy-dog-ish look he could. He reached up and pulled her face down to his, clearly surprising her. She squeaked against his lips, but what began as frantic, stiff kissing, ended up soft and gentle.

He smiled drunkenly against her lips as he tangled his hands in her short hair and slowly slid his hands down to the hem of her jeans. She stiffened when she realized what he was doing, but didn’t stop him as he ran his hand against the small of her back, his movements feverish.

“Hunter,” she said warningly as he fumbled with her bra hook, but he took no notice and managed to unhook it beneath her shirt. She froze. He moved his hands up to where her bra had been and nearly got thrown to the floor by her. She stared at him, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. Her hair was a complete mess, but she looked beautiful with her rosy cheeks and the confused look in her eyes.

He brushed his dark hair back with his hand. “Fun?” he slurred, his mouth not working quite like he wanted it to.

“I—you’re Daniel’s brother,” she stammered. “Jesus Christ. You’re only fourteen.”

Hunter licked his lips irritably. “A drunk fourteen-year-old recruit. I’ll die soon anyway,” he said, words tumbling over each other. He looked at her. “Please,” he pleaded. “I…” He looked down at the ground.

It was she who took the step forward and kissed him. It was she who sent them crashing onto the couch along the wall in the small room. She sat on his hips, her knees bent back as she leaned into his kiss. Her breath was hot against his mouth, and tasted sweet, like…like honey or some other sort of sweet substance. She broke away briefly and he was astounded when she worked his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor beside them. It was his hot skin against her thin T-shirt.

He stroked her hair gently, soft beneath his fingertips. Hunter kissed her softly and ran his fingers over her arms gently. He pulled back breathlessly and looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The realization of who it was hit him too hard and too late. _Ashlin Stillwater. Shit. I wasn’t supposed—whatever. Tomorrow I’ll be dead for this._


	12. Chapter 12

Brandon cleared his throat as he stared angrily at his daughter who sat behind his desk. Her eyes were locked on the paperwork stacked in the center of his desk. “Would you like to explain what _this_ was doing in your room?” he inquired, his dark eyes flickering toward the boy sitting on the opposite side of the room.

Ashlin heaved an irritated sigh as she clenched and unclenched her fists repeatedly. “I _told_ you that he was passed out drunk,” she grumbled, keeping her golden eyes locked on the stack of paper. A muscle in her jaw jumped, resisting the urge to snap at him.

“Passed out drunk with half of his clothes off?” Brandon inquired blinking his eyes in mock amazement. “Because I’m sure he had his clothes on when he was wandering down the hall,” he said with a gesture to one of the cameras fixed to the corner of the room. His dark brown eyes flickered toward Hunter, who seemed to be ignoring him to the best of his abilities.

“He threw up on his clothes. Did you really want me to keep them on him?” Ashlin snapped, shoulders tense as she glared at her father. She was thoroughly annoyed with him. “I doubt that he’s ever been drunk before. And whatever it was he drank smelled horrible. I wasn’t going to let him lie around in my room smelling like that.” She was going to continue, but broke off angrily, grinding her teeth together.

Brandon only raised his eyebrows before Hunter finally spoke up. “I was drunk,” he started, his forest green eyes locked on the general, his voice wavering slightly. “ _I_ ended up at her door. _I_ kissed her. So if you’re looking for someone to blame for what happened, blame me. I should’ve realized what I was drinking wasn’t right.”

Her father looked surprised as his gaze swiveled back to his daughter. “What, exactly, did you do?” he demanded, a murderous look darkening his eyes.

Ashlin held his gaze, trying to keep as calm as she could. “I don’t see why that even matters—”

“He’s _fourteen_. He was sent here by _John_. Do you really think he’s here to make things _better_?” he said, voice gradually growing louder.

“He was drunk,” she reminded him in the calmest voice she could muster.

“You can’t control yourself around a boy?” he growled.

Hunter raised a hand behind him slowly with a worried expression. “I _can_ be pretty persuasive,” he started quietly.

“Shut up,” Brandon snapped, his brow furrowed in anger. “I’ll deal with you later,” he muttered. Hunter bit his lip and looked away from the general without another word as he lowered his hand. “You,” he started, his dark eyes locked on Ashlin who was sitting almost casually behind his desk now. “You aren’t allowed to be around _anyone_ —”

She snorted in cold amusement at his words. “Do you _really_ think that you can keep Will and Danny away from me?” she inquired her eyebrows raised as she shook her head, her tawny gaze never leaving her father’s own dark gaze. “They are my friends. _They’ve_ been there for me. They’ve _listened_ to me. You haven’t been there for anything. You _let me go_. _You_ made _me_ leave.” She would’ve smiled at her father’s expression if her temper hadn’t been blown. “While you’ve been sitting in your stupid office sniveling over Mom, I’ve been trying to do things to keep me from doing something stupid. You know what? I think I should’ve stayed at Mark’s. _At least he wouldn’t be fighting over a dead woman_.”

Brandon blinked his eyes in surprise, taken aback. “I—” he started.

“ _No_. I am done hearing your excuses,” she snapped as she pushed herself out of the chair and stalked around the desk and walked out of the room before slamming the door behind her.

‡

John rubbed his cheek in annoyance as he glanced down at the notes in front of him. They were good plans, but it meant getting close to the base, which wasn’t something he really wanted to risk. He didn’t want to take the chance of being caught.

John shook his head as he stood up from his desk. Ever since receiving the call from Luke informing him that Jesse had made a run for it he’d been starting to lose his patience. His own his family was turning on him to back the Stillwaters.

He took a deep breath and made for the door. The hallway was dark compared to his office space. The only light source there was in the building outside his office were the tiny fluorescent lights that dotted the halls, and there weren’t too many of those. To his surprise, none of his men were lurking around the halls, which was unusual. Generally, there were two or three of his men wandering along the cages, taking care of the prisoners.

“Baker,” he called loudly, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls of the huge room.

A reply echoed off the walls sounding something like, “Hm?” And then there were the heavy footsteps of the bigger man until he stood less than ten feet away from John. “Yes?” he inquired, sounding mildly annoyed.

“I need a truck. I’m going out to Arizona.”

“Already?” Baker asked in disbelief, the annoyance disappearing. “I thought we weren’t ready yet—”

“Oh, no, we’re ready,” John said rubbing his forehead at the man’s ignorance. “Get me a truck. I’m leaving at dusk.”

“I… Yes, sir.”

‡

“Up and at ‘em, buddy,” Ashlin yelled through Danny’s door.

Danny rubbed his eyes sleepily as he stifled a tired yawn. “What is it with you and waking up before nine o’clock? Do you have something against people sleeping in?” he muttered as he rolled out of his bed and flopped onto the hard floor.

“If you don’t get up, I’m coming in and dragging you out,” Ashlin warned threateningly.

“I’m up,” Danny called with a distasteful glance at the door before he stretched and nearly fell over. “I’ll be out in a couple minutes,” he added with a sigh. Knowing Ashlin, she’d charge into the room assuming he’d gone back to sleep.

“Take your time,” Ashlin called impatiently. “We’re doing gun training this morning.”

Danny growled as he rolled his eyes. “I hate you and your dumb guns,” he muttered before pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it on the floor.

“I heard that,” Ashlin said irritably from the other side of the door. “How long does it take you to get dressed?” she asked. Danny imagined that she was about ready to break his door down.

“When I’m half awake? Forever. Plus a day,” Danny muttered under his breath angrily, knowing that she couldn’t hear him. He found a fresh pair of jeans that Ashlin had gotten him a couple weeks ago and pulled them on before stumbling toward the door. He pulled the door open and Ashlin nearly fell on him, since she’d been leaning against the wall, which, in Danny’s opinion, was a stupid idea.

She huffed after she regained her balance. “It doesn’t take me that long to get dressed in the morning, and I’ve got _more clothes to put on_ ,” she muttered before she started down the hall, leaving Danny standing there.

“Yes, well, you’re always up and ready to go in the morning. I, on the other hand, am not a morning person. So there,” he said as he trailed after her, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“ _That’s_ your comeback?”

“Well, you’re the one waking me up before seven o’clock in the morning. If you wanted a better comeback, you should’ve woken me up later.”

“Just hush,” she sighed. “Brandon’s not in the mood today. Don’t do anything to make it worse.”

Danny raised an eyebrow curiously. “Like breathing? Should I not do that? It might upset him.” She punched him in the arm without looking at him. “Ouch,” he muttered defensively as he cradled his arm with a pouting lip in Ashlin’s direction. “I meant it. He doesn’t like me breathing. Maybe I should just stop. It would make him happier.”

“It would make the whole _base_ happier,” she corrected with a snort of amusement. “And I meant it too. He’s in one of his moods where if you breathe wrong he might throw you at the fence.” She was silent for a moment as they continued down the empty hallway. “And then laugh about it,” she added.

“Ohh,” Danny said, as if he were coming to a realization. “So a killing spree mood?”

Ashlin glared at him, golden eyes gleaming in irritation. “Yes,” she muttered.

“Are you too? Should I stop breathing right now?”

“For the _love of God_ , Daniel,” Ashlin huffed, throwing her hands up in anguish. “Is it possible for you to act your _age_?”

Danny pondered it for a moment before glancing at the ceiling for a moment. “Five?”

“ _Eighteen_ ,” she grumbled. “If Will can act twenty, I’m sure you can act eighteen.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“I give up,” Ashlin sighed, shaking her head. “If I shoot you, I’m not going to feel sorry about it,” she said pulling a face as she held the door open for Danny.

He scowled at her before entering the room and looking around in high hopes that Brandon wouldn’t be there. He was, of course. What kind of training would it be without him? He was sitting in a rolling chair on the opposite side of the training room with a _very_ displeased look plastered to his face. “Good morning,” he muttered standing up from his chair.

 _I haven’t even said anything yet_ , Danny thought in bewilderment as he watched the general cross the room. “Ashlin said we were working with guns again?” he inquired in a light tone.

Brandon nodded curtly as he started toward the wall cover with assortments of guns. “You need to carry a pistol on you,” he said. Before Danny was able to question why, he added, “It’s better to be safer than sorry. Especially when we have an idiot running around, plotting to blow things up.”

Danny glanced toward the ceiling. “We have someone who does that?” Danny inquired in amazement that quickly turned to worry when he noticed Ashlin’s expression.

“Yes,” Ashlin said, allowing the door to close behind her. “You met his nephew,” she muttered with a frown. “Will’s uncle, John, is a bit… Unreliable. And hates Brandon… And possibly me. We haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out until his gaze fell on Brandon, his brow furrowed in confusion and concern. “Really?” Brandon nodded again, this time slower. “Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Brandon pulled a pistol off the wall before turning back to Danny. “There hasn’t been a reason for you to know,” he said as he delicately turned the pistol over in his hands. “You didn’t need to know anything about the war anyway. It hasn’t held you back so far.”

“Yeah… Well, my whole family was murdered because of the war, so I think it’s fair that I should’ve known,” Danny said stiffly. He heaved a sigh as he pushed thoughts of family away. “Just give me the pistol. I’ll work on it.”

The general gave him a wary look before he walked toward him and handed him the pistol gingerly, as if it would explode the moment Danny touched it. “Just don’t shoot anyone today.”

Danny frowned. “I never _shot_ anyone,” Danny objected through squinting eyes as he weighed the pistol in one hand. “I missed on purpose. If I wanted to shoot you, I would have.” And at that, he turned to the side and shot at the wall leaving a small hole in it and a surprised expression on Ashlin’s face. “I’ve been practicing,” he told her as he turned the pistol over in his hand as he inspected it.

“I noticed,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “You didn’t shoot anyone in the head.”

“I _never_ shot anyone!” Danny complained, his frown deepening. “It took me longer to learn how to aim a gun, big deal. I can still fight hand-to-hand better than most.” He held his head up in a challenge for either of the Stillwaters to argue.

Ashlin nodded though she still looked annoyed. Her tawny eyes were fixed on the pistol in Danny’s hand. “But can you aim and fire at a moving target _and_ hit it?” she inquired, meeting his gaze.

“And how am I supposed to do that? Do you want to be the moving target?” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he ran a hand through his stiff hair. “I think that’s called suicidal, my friend. And I’m pretty sure that most parents teach their children that they shouldn’t think like that,” he added with a sideways glance at Brandon.

Ashlin rolled her eyes. “That’s what the gear’s for,” she muttered gesturing toward her clothes. “It’s bulletproof. I’m sure you’ve realized that it’s heavier than your other stuff by now. That’s because it’s _bulletproof_.”

Danny licked his lips and back at Ashlin, forest green eyes gleaming. “I knew it was bulletproof,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t think you’d want me shooting at you because of my _‘bad aim’_ ,” he said making quotation marks with his free hand. “I’d rather it be something more or less… You know, not alive?”

Ashlin stared at the ground in thought before shaking her head. “I’m the best you get right now. Something that’s not alive is predictable. You can see where its movements are going. With me,” she paused with a mischievous smile and a glint in her eyes, “you’ll never know.”

Danny nodded as he glanced back at the pistol in his hand. “Then you have complete faith that I won’t shoot you?” he inquired, green eyes holding her gaze in seriousness.

“I don’t have _complete_ faith, but I don’t think you’ll kill me,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m probably going to regret saying that.”

Danny cracked a grin. “You might.”

‡

Jesse knelt on the sandy ground roughly as he glanced up at the sky through squinting eyes. “God, why did I ever do this?” he muttered to himself as his eyes fluttered shut.

He didn’t know where he was at, and he didn’t know how far he was from the base. Jesse knew that he should’ve been there already. He should’ve been there _days_ ago, but he must’ve miscalculated, or he had gone in the wrong direction. Either way, it wasn’t going very well for him.

Half of the time, he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if he was walking across the sandy, uneven desert landscape. Sometimes he _was_ dreaming in some sense or another. And he hated every last bit of it. All he ever dreamed of were old memories that he missed wholeheartedly. Nothing that would make him feel better at this point.

He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. His fingers were dry, cracked and covered in scratches and scabs. His forehead seared in pain. The day before—maybe two days ago? He couldn’t keep his days straight anymore—he had cut his forehead on a rock while he’d slept. Without the proper care, it wouldn’t heal right and he knew if he didn’t get it looked at soon, the wound would go bad and the infection would worsen. A bad infection was _not_ something could deal with right now.

“Come here, little one,” came the soft, sweet voice of his mother, Emilie Murray.

A tiny, dusty blonde haired boy stumbled toward the beautiful small woman with his arms outstretched and a wide smile stretching across his face. “Mamma,” he giggled as she scooped him up in her arms and twirled him around in a circle. “Will?” he asked, his blue eyes twinkling in question.

“He’s with Papa,” she told him with a small smile. “Do you want to see _oncle_ John?” she inquired lightly.

Jesse’s head bobbed up and down in an eager nod. “ _Oú est-il_?” he mumbled as his blue eyes instantly scanned the nearby area for his uncle.

“He’s with Papa and Will,” Emilie murmured, her smile fading.

“Oh,” Jesse said, sounding slightly disappointed, a tiny frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Later?” he inquired slipping into English, though his accent still remained.

Emilie smiled sadly at him. He knew that look. He got it every time she got her hopes up that he might actually talk to someone other than Uncle John or herself. “Of course, _chérie_ ,” she said, the sadness melting from her face. “Would you like to see the horses?”

Jesse’s face brightened immediately. “Yes!” he said beaming at her.

She smiled to herself as she carried him toward the door of the house when the whole house shook. Emilie nearly dropped Jesse, whether it was due to fright or unbalance he wasn’t sure. “That man,” she growled setting Jesse on the ground as quickly as she could. “You stay here, okay?” When he tilted his head to the side in question, she repeated herself, a little irritation slipping into her words. “ _Vous séjournenez ici, d’accord_?”

He nodded and watched her leave. He’d never seen her that angry before, and he wasn’t sure if he ever had seen her that angry ever since.

Jesse blinked his dry eyes open painfully and pulled his palm away from his forehead. Maybe they hadn’t noticed what John had been planning. It seemed to him that John had been gone long before that any of them had even realized. Jesse was three when the explosive went off. It had been nearly nine years after _that_ incident that John had gone after Jessica’s truck and blown it up. Not that it helped matters now.

He sighed as he struggled to his feet. He needed to find a field, or _somewhere_ with water. If he could do that, he would be fine until he could get better supplies. All he could see around him was rock, sand, and the occasional cactus or two. There was no sight of any sort of buildings for miles around in any direction.

He could give up now. He knew he could be done with it all now if he wanted. He _could_ , but he wouldn’t. He thought about it. If he made it to the base, he could help bring John down. He could possibly help end the war and live a normal life after that. And the thought alone gave him a little strength.

‡

“Brandon,” Ashlin said, her tawny-golden eyes wavering in disbelief, a fist planted firmly on his desk. “You _can’t_ order that,” she argued, nearly yelling now. The general only raised his eyebrow as he looked up at her. “Do you know what that would _do_ to him? Do you _want_ someone else on John’s side?”

“Do you think I would allow him to escape?” he inquired quietly. His brown eyes stayed focused on her as he shook his head. “Security is high. Daniel isn’t that stupid.”

Ashlin bit her lip and looked toward Darling helplessly, who stood by the door emotionlessly. “You’re going to kill him,” she said.

“No. It’ll break him. And he’ll have to learn the hard way that traitors and spies will not be tolerated in my presence,” Brandon said, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he fought to keep from snapping at her. “Daniel will make a fine soldier someday. But Hunter?” He shook his head as Captain Darling walked out of the room and shut the door quietly behind him. “No. He’ll never do. John sent him with a plan. I don’t _know_ the plan. It may have nothing to do with the boy at all, but I’m not willing to risk my life on a boy.”

“I won’t let you,” she said through gritted teeth. “Hunter didn’t _do_ anything. He’s _fourteen_. He has a whole life ahead of him. You can’t just take that away from him. From Danny.” She bit back a venomous retort.

Brandon stood up, his brown eyes gleaming angrily, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “Then what do you want me to do? Allow a child who could bring us all to our knees to walk around _my_ base and ignore me like his ass of a brother? Do you _want_ to die?” he yelled gripping the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles started turning white.

Ashlin took a shaky breath, sure that she was losing this argument. “No,” she said slowly. “But I don’t want to see others dead just because you can’t get your way.at this point.ed wholeheartedly. ” She closed her eyes and pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. “You’re just as bad as John if you kill him.”

Brandon’s fiery gaze grew hotter. “ _No._ I am so much better than that man. I don’t storm cities. I don’t kill innocents—”

“Then _why_ are you killing Hunter?” she demanded, her voice cracking as she rose. She ripped her hand away from her face, devastation clear in her expression. “Don’t _tell_ me you don’t kill innocents when you’re planning to murder a boy who probably has nothing to do with John. There are so many _innocent_ people dead because they weren’t _strong_ enough or they didn’t do something you wanted. You’re as bad as a two-year-old. If you don’t like something you expect it to change or you want it to go away. You’ve probably killed more innocent people than John has.”

Brandon stared after Ashlin as she stormed out of the room, surprise and disbelief clouding his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

After spending the whole day training with the pistol, Brandon finally allowed Danny to keep it on him. He wasn’t sure what the whole fuss about him supposedly not being able to shoot. He’d spent the whole afternoon shooting at Ashlin who’d quickly zipped back and forth across the room. He’d missed most of the time, but he expected that he’d be able to shoot a moving target if he really needed to.

Now he was on his way back to Brandon’s office, unsure of the reason he was being called in for. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything that he thought was worthy of going to the general’s office. He didn’t have any more test scores—which he was thankful for. He hadn’t had any of those since he’d been promoted to second lieutenant. There was something gnawing at his stomach, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He hadn’t done anything wrong today.

Danny had been woken up from his nap at eight o’clock to come down to his office. Not his ideal time for waking up, but he didn’t want to argue with the general, especially with the way he’d been acting the morning before.

He pushed the door to the office open and silently slipped into a chair in front of his desk. Danny thought he’d come into the room unnoticed, but he obviously hadn’t. Brandon looked up at him with a grim expression spread across his face.

“You wanted to see me?” Danny inquired as he forced a yawn away. He was willing to bet that Brandon would somehow find that offensive and punish him for it.

Brandon nodded. “Yes,” he said. To Danny, he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. _Too_ carefully. “Do you know anyone by the name of Hunter Richards?” he asked as he tried to straighten several of the papers scattered across his unorganized desk, which was odd for the usually organized general.

Danny screwed his face up in confusion. “No?” he said shaking his head. Why on Earth would Brandon be asking about his dead brother?

“You have a brother named Hunter,” Brandon pressed, his brown eyes boring into Danny. Danny wondered if the general was trying to suck his soul out of him or something. It was starting to bother him.

“ _Had_. Yes,” Danny said, his voice growing icy, “and he was murdered along with the rest of my family.” He stared back at the general, his forest green eyes burning. Why was he doing this? “No. I don’t know anyone by the name of Hunter Richards,” he said finally, trying to push away the icy tone.

Brandon seemed a little amused by that. “Good,” he said, his brown eyes gleaming harshly. “Because there’s a death sentence on him. Perhaps,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he watched Danny’s eyes grow wide in terror, “you would like to say goodbye?”

“Wha—I… I don’t understand—” Danny stammered as his heart started to race. As much as he wanted to believe that Hunter was really dead… He was finding it hard to do so when Brandon was being this serious.

“He’s worse than you,” the general said harshly as he shook his head, his brown eyes darkening as he continued. “Can’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him, and he can’t keep his hands to himself.” A—small—smug smile crossed Brandon’s lips for a matter of seconds before disappearing back to the straight lined scowl he usually kept. He knew he was getting to Danny.

 _That doesn’t sound like Hunter to me_ , Danny thought to himself as he shook his head. He got to his feet though, his instinct winning out against his conscience. “Where?” he demanded. His heart felt like it was about to explode in his chest. If Brandon really was telling the truth, if Hunter really was alive… He would never forgive himself.

“By the gates.”

Danny was out of the office the moment the words had passed Brandon’s lips. He raced down the halls, hardly noticing anyone as he pushed past everyone that was in his way. If anyone said anything to him, he couldn’t here. He was in a haze. This couldn’t be happening. Not to his little brother.

By the time Danny reached the gate, there was already a crowd gathering. It was large enough that he couldn’t see through to the front of it, and loud enough that he couldn’t tell what was really going on. “ _MOVE_!” he yelled as he shoved his way forward. He pushed people out of the way, which earned him several looks of annoyance, but he didn’t care. “ _MOVE_!” he shouted again, but it wasn’t enough. He heard the gunshot ring throughout the base, echoing off the walls and then everything fell silent. He numbly stumbled through, still pushing people out of his way.

As soon as he got to the front of the crowd, he could see Hunter on the ground. He was holding onto his thigh—that, Danny realized was where he’d been shot. A long, painful death. He was crumpled to the dusty ground, crying and fighting to keep control of his breathing. His little brother. “Hunter,” he whispered as he dropped to his knees beside him. He couldn’t form words on his lips no matter how hard he tried. Danny ran his hand through Hunter’s shaggy dark brown hair shakily to try to comfort him. “I’m right here,” he murmured, his eyes burning from the tears welling behind them. People were staring, but he didn’t care. Hunter was bleeding out, and they weren’t doing _anything_.

“Shot my leg,” he said hoarsely as he glassy, unfocused green eyes met Danny’s. “Damn it,” he groaned heaving a pained sigh, forcing him to close his eyes.

“Here, lemme—” Danny said as he tried to pull Hunter up to get him to his feet.

“I can’t stand, _Danny_ ,” he muttered clenching his jaw. “They shot my damn _leg_.” Danny noticed that his hands were bloodied from holding onto his leg where he’d been shot. If they didn’t get him up soon… “I’m _dying_.”

Danny didn’t want to hear those words.

“No.” Danny shook his head, closing his eyes. He would never believe that his little brother was dying. He wasn’t supposed to go first. That wasn’t how it worked. He was going to get him help. “Someone get a stretcher!” he yelled over his shoulder, his green eyes open and icy as he watched the people around him. The words seemed quieter than they were meant to be, his throat tightened from trying not to cry, but he knew that the people around them heard him. But nobody moved. “Get a _God damn stretcher_!” he yelled, his voice cracking in desperation. Still nobody moved. Why wasn't anyone helping? A sob escaped his throat as he shook his head in disbelief. “Why?” he sighed.

“They said I was…” Hunter trailed off as he moved his hand on his thigh, trying to put pressure on the wound, but his hands kept slipping. “They said I was like you,” he murmured and smiled painfully down at his thigh. “Figured they—” His words were cut off as another searing pain racked his body, his breathes shallow, but quick. “Figured they’d like another Danny.” He looked up at Danny wistfully. “God damn it. Just shoot me already?” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“No,” he said gently as he looked over his shoulder in hope that someone had heard him. But nobody was bringing help. “Damn these people,” he muttered looking back at Hunter, who now had blood smeared across his face from wiping his forehead. “Hunter… I’m so sorry for leaving you,” he murmured.

“I… it’s fine,” Hunter mumbled before gasping in pain, forcing his eyes shut, making Danny cringe inwardly. “Just—just give me a gun. I’m not going to make it… And I don’t want to stay in this hell until I finally bleed out.”

Danny bit his lip as he put a hand on the pistol in the holster on his hip. He didn’t want Hunter to be gone forever. But keeping him here at this point would only cause him more pain. All of this was his fault. If he’d never left him…

“I love you, you remember that, okay?” he murmured as he pulled the gun from the holster, tears threatening to spill over.

“Be brave for me.” _You’ve always been braver than me_ … he wanted to say, but couldn’t form the words on his lips. He put the pistol in Hunter’s hand gingerly before turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I love you too, Danny,” he mumbled, shaking as he brought the pistol to his head. He whispered something softly, but Danny didn’t manage to catch it and then the younger boy pulled the trigger.

Danny cried out when Hunter’s hand and the gun fell beside him. He reached forward and pulled his little brother closer to him, wrapping his arms around him, cradling him like he had when his mother had first brought Hunter home from the hospital.

“Danny,” a voice said, seeming almost inaudible to him. A hand touched his shoulder lightly, but he hardly felt it. “Danny, c’mon, get up.”

“I can’t,” he murmured quietly into Hunter’s hair as he forced himself to let go of his little brother.

It was Ashlin who sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around his chest, ignoring the blood. “I’m really sorry,” she murmured softly. Danny said nothing as he stared down at Hunter’s lifeless body, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “I tried to get him to stop… I really did. I saw him yesterday when they sentenced him… I… I knew he was your brother the minute I saw him. He’d hardly done anything…” She fell silent as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Danny bit his lip, disregarding the pain. “I could’ve stopped him,” he whispered as he reached out to touch Hunter’s bloodied hair. “I should’ve waited for him,” he mumbled, his low jaw trembling.

“It’s not your fault,” Ashlin told him softly, trying to comfort him, though he wasn’t sure if it was really helping at all. “Brandon wouldn’t listen to me.”

“ _He_ ordered it?” Danny demanded quietly, as his forest green eyes slowly fixed on her with an icy glare.

Ashlin seemed hesitant when she nodded. “Yes,” she murmured. “I tried to get him to call it off,” she mumbled softly as she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Danny sighed and closed his eyes. “We need to get a stretcher,” he murmured after a while as he finally pulled himself away from his brother wiping the tears off his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

‡

After bringing Hunter’s body back to the infirmary to be prepared for his burial, Danny had disappeared back to his room and crashed on his bed. He would’ve gone straight to Brandon if Ashlin hadn’t almost literally dragged him the whole way back to his room. She had known what he’d intended to do with Brandon, and that was yell. There was nothing that could bring Hunter back. Danny knew that, but he could still go after Brandon for what he’d done.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

Brandon had murdered his brother—the person he was supposedly fighting for, had taken the little trust he had in him in away. And while he knew that he wanted Brandon gone now, he couldn’t turn to John Murray. He’d killed Ashlin’s mother and that was more than enough to warn him off. He could choose his own side in this battle.

He would certainly follow Brandon’s orders. There was no way around that. But in the end, he would deal with Brandon.

“Danny?”

“Go away, Ashlin,” he sighed, though he wasn’t sure if she actually heard him through the pillow he was pressing his face into. “I’ve had enough of people for the day.” _Probably the rest of the year_ , he added silently.

She chose not to listen by opening the door and walking in, her footsteps heavy on his floor. “I came to give this back to you,” she said tossing his pistol onto his bed.

He sat up immediately and shoved it off the side of his bed, sending it clattering to the floor. “I don’t want it.”

Her expression melted sympathetically. It was sympathy he didn’t want. “Danny, I’m sorry,” she said, her golden eyes trying to make eye contact with his, but he refused to look at her. “You’ve got to have a pistol on you.”

“Well, I don’t want one,” he said stubbornly. “You didn’t just give your brother a gun to shoot himself in the head,” he said roughly before taking a deep breath to try to calm himself down. But the breath didn’t help him any, it only sent him back to thinking of the events of the day. “I don’t even want to be here. I never did.”

She sighed as she sat down beside him on the bed. “I know what you’re feeling right now. Someone you thought you might be able to trust killed someone you loved. It happened to me too.”

“But I thought he was _dead_. _I_ was the one who killed him!” Danny said, voice rising involuntarily, his eyes burning. “Your mother wasn’t dead. You knew she was alive.”

“It’s still the same feeling. Someone you thought you could trust is the reason he’s dead. In your case, it’s Brandon. In mine, it’s John. It’s still the same thing, Danny. And you’ll get over it. It just takes time,” Ashlin said gently.

He wondered if he was trying her patience though she didn’t even sound annoyed. “You’re still not over it,” he pointed weakly as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Ashlin took a deep breath before slowly letting go of it. “No,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “But do you see me charging over to John to murder him?”

“No, but I know you’re still trying to get back at him for what he did to her. And I know that you’ll never let me near Brandon alone if you can help it,” Danny pressed opening one eye and looking at her curiously. “As stupid as you two seem to think I am, I’m not _blind_. I’ve been surrounded by people who’ve lost their families for years. I’m just late to the party.” He closed his eye again and sighed. “I’m not carrying the pistol on me. I refuse to. Brandon can demote me if he’d like. I don’t care. He already took what I really cared for anyway.”

He heard Ashlin sigh beside him. “He won’t do that,” she promised. She fell silent for a few moments before leaning forward, balancing her elbows on her knees. “Will wants to look for Jesse again,” she started.

“Good for him. He can look by himself,” he grumbled. For someone who’d recently lost a sibling, he thought he was being asked to do quite a bit.

“Danny,” Ashlin scolded. “It will help take your mind off Hunter.”

“I haven’t had my time to grieve,” Danny complaining with his green eyes still squeezed shut and his back pressed against the wall on the opposite side of his bed.

Ashlin pushed herself off his bed and turned to face him as he opened his eyes hesitantly. “You’re still in shock,” she pointed out gently. “I told you, it’ll take some time. Once the shock is gone, you’ll grieve.”

He folded his arms across his chest stubbornly. “Well, what if I want to grieve right now?”

“Well, you can’t because we’re going to look for Jesse,” she said impatiently. “Get fresh clothes on. You might frighten the recruits if they see you walking around in that.”

Danny sighed. He hadn’t bothered to change his clothes since the death sentence that evening, and so his clothes were still covered in dry blood. His hands were mostly clean now, though that had taken almost a half hour to rid of most of the blood. “Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll meet you down by the gate with Will, alright?”

Ashlin nodded. “Okay. Just be careful, Danny,” she said giving him one last worried look before she disappeared out of his door, closing it carefully behind her.

Danny sighed in relief as soon as she was gone. He knew she would continue to act like that until he finally started acting like himself again. He wasn’t sure if that was ever going to change.

He pulled the bloodied shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Leaving the remainder of his clothes in a pile, he searched the drawers of his dresser for cleaner clothes. Finally, after pulling almost every drawer out, he found a pair of dark jeans that had been balled up in the back of a drawer, and a clean bleached plaid shirt and his hoodie that reminded him of home.

He hurried through the hallways, hardly bothering to say sorry when he bumped into people. He didn’t have time to. He wanted to search for Jesse and then be done with it. He felt a little guilty for not having the patience to look for Will’s little brother. Will had been out of his mind looking for Jesse while Danny had pretty much mocked him. He felt a little sympathy toward the twenty-year-old. Jesse, for all they knew, could be dead as well.

“Took you long enough,” Ashlin teased as he neared them, his hands balled into fists in the pockets of his hoodie. “Did you get lost?”

He forced a feeble smile. “Maybe,” he said as he looked at the truck sitting behind them. “You’re not driving again, are you?” he inquired looking back at her, his smile fading.

She raised an eyebrow and started to turn toward her truck. “Well, if you’re asking to drive, the answer is no,” she said as she swung the pack off her back and set it in the bed of the truck. “No, Will’s driving. I don’t think he’ll let me drive ever again.”

Danny scoffed as he slipped his bag off his shoulder and threw it into the bed of the truck as well. “Serves you right,” he muttered as he turned to the front of the truck. “Where are we going?” he asked as he shut his door with a slam.

Will snorted in amusement. “Straight to business, huh?” he inquired looking back at him in the rearview mirror. The look Danny gave him made him clear his throat and lose the ridiculous smile. “Um, we’re going about ten minutes out. There was a fire on the fields out there. Brandon’s guessing that John set a fire there and said that Jesse could be there… You know… Drawn toward the fire?”

Danny nodded as he wrestled with the back of Ashlin’s seat, trying to push it forward. “We should be careful out there, if he thinks John’s the one that did it, he could be around—”

Will shook his head as Ashlin climbed into the passenger seat. “John doesn’t go out himself. He’s got his men for that,” he muttered. “I haven’t seen the man myself since I was fourteen. He’s always sent out people to do his work.” He shrugged his shoulders as he turned the key in the ignition. “But either way, we still need to be careful. John might not be there, but some of his men might be. And since you’re the only one with a pistol… I really don’t think it’s a good idea not to be careful.”

“I don’t have my pistol,” Danny said heatedly.

Will heaved a sigh as he thrummed his fingers against the leather steering wheel. “So no way to defend ourselves,” he amended, a light of annoyance flickering in his voice.

“ _We_ can both fight,” Ashlin said hitting his arm lightly, but forcefully. “ _You’re_ the only one with no way to defend yourself.”

“He could run them over with the truck,” Danny suggested quietly.

Ashlin whirled around in her seat with a mortified look. “He would _not_ ,” she said. “I might run _you_ over with the truck for giving him the idea.”

Will shook his head. “No worries, Ash,” he said. “I intend on sitting in the truck while you two go punch your way through things.” Danny nearly fell out of his seat as the truck hit a rock. It send Ashlin crashing back into her seat with a squeak of surprise. The only one who seemed not to have moved was Will, who was snickering at Ashlin.

Ashlin scoffed. “You can be our human shield,” she muttered as she flopped back against her seat with her arms folded across her chest. The whole drive to the field was full of insults—friendly—between Will and Ashlin. Danny hardly said a word as he sat in the back staring out the window looking for any signs of fire.

“Looks safe to me,” Danny sighed as he scoped out the area, his green eyes lingering on nothing for longer than a moment. “Where’s this ‘fire’?” he inquired, his gaze swiveling to Will in question.

The twenty-year-old shrugged his shoulders. “You think I actually believed Brandon?” he muttered as he reached for the keys. He tugged it out of the ignition and then pushed his door open, looking around carefully before he shut the door. “I’d be careful. I don’t trust John. Brandon might have been wrong about the fire, but he might have been right about John being around.”

Ashlin gave Will a slight nod before shutting her door and opening the back cab with a questioning look at Danny, who hadn’t moved since they’d arrived. “Coming?” she inquired, her golden eyes silently inspecting him.

Danny shook his head. “Yeah, sorry,” he muttered with a sigh. “Blanked for a second.”

Ashlin gave him a sad smile. “It’s alright,” she said. “C’mon before Will decides to run someone over with my truck.”

He held her gaze for a moment. “I don’t wanna be run over,” he said decidedly as he pushed himself off the seat of the back cab. “Something doesn’t feel right about this place,” he muttered.

‡

Danny and Ashlin wandered off, leaving Will to watch them walk away from the truck. They’d decided that he should stay since he couldn’t defend himself well enough. He patted the seat and leaned back with a sigh.

 _What if they don’t find Jesse_? his conscience pestered him as he gazed out at the rickety old field that was dappled in a golden-crimson light. A small building stood in the center, looking lonely. The building had definitely seen better days.

Curiosity sparked in his mind at the weird lighting as he slipped off the seat and headed toward the building. As he moved closer, he realized he smelled smoke, which rose a silent alarm in the back of his mind. He continued toward the lone building with more caution and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw flames licking at the roof and windows from the inside. Shattered glass covered the foot of the house in front of him.

Something else caught his eye as he looked for the source of the fire. Liquid. And it was streamed straight toward Ashlin’s truck. Someone had anticipated their arrival. With a racing heart, he sprinted back toward the truck just as the liquid caught fire. He swore under his breath as everything else around him seemed to catch fire. In a daze, he realized that the back of the truck was on fire as well.

“Oh great,” he muttered as he tried to reach their belongings. The flamed licked at his skin, leaving scorch marks and burns in their wake. The heat rose around him, the sweat on his skin burning him along with the fire. After nearly ten minutes of fighting with the flames for their belongings he’d gotten most of them out, except his own bag. He started to limp back into the flames to grab his stuff, doing his best to ignore the searing pain that ripped through him. Flames licked at his ankles and began to climb up his body. Too late he realized that he was surrounded by a wall of fire with no escape.

 _The truck_ , he thought painfully. He couldn’t move fast enough to get to the truck before he heard a few pings and then the gas tank blew. The pain and heat drove him to his knees. If he screamed, he didn’t recall it. Through heavy breaths, he looked up at the smoke filled sky and smiled painfully.

 _God, please let them find Jesse_.

‡

“Uhm,” Danny said quietly. He seemed to have lost his voice since the incident earlier, which Ashlin found unsettling. “Is that smoke?” he asked, gesturing toward the building behind her with a nod.

Ashlin blinked her eyes. Brandon _had_ warned them to be careful while they were out, that John could be around. She hadn’t actually believed him. “Maybe Will started a fire?” she suggested weakly as she shrugged her shoulders, turning around to look at the building. Her golden eyes widened as she stared at it. “Okay, maybe not…” she said taking a deep breath before darting forward.

She heard Danny stumble behind her in surprise, but she didn’t stop. If Will was over there… She pushed the thought away. “Will?” she yelled, hoping that even if he was in the fire, he would hear him, but her conscience deeply doubted he could. “ _William_!” she screamed at the wall of fire barring her way from her truck and the building ahead of her.

Danny caught up to her and held onto her arm to steady himself. “Will’s not in there… Is he?” he asked, his forest green widened as he stared back at her in fear. Two people lost in one day. That wasn’t going to make Danny’s situation any better.

Ashlin shook her head, forcing herself to scan the flames for any sign of Will. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

“I can… Go look…” he muttered green eyes reflecting the flames as he looked toward them.

“No,” Ashlin said sternly. “No. You’re not going in the fire. Hunter might be gone… Will… He might… He might be gone… But, I’m not losing you. You’re going to stay away from the fire.”

Danny blinked at her in astonishment. “I… I just meant to look… I…” he trailed off looking at her quizzically and then back at the flames. “Did you think I was going to try to kill myself?” he said, eyebrows furrowed.

Ashlin swallowed stiffly as she continued to stare at the flames. Will could be in there. He could be burning… He could be… Dead. She closed her eyes. “Check the truck,” she said quietly as tears started to well behind her eyes. She felt Danny released her arm and walk away unsteadily toward the truck. She opened her eyes and stared into the flickering flames. “Please stop this,” she murmured softly.

“I can’t get to the truck!” Danny yelled. “The flames destroyed it!”

Ashlin choked on her breath. “No,” she muttered. If she hadn’t been terrified of the fire, she would have gone in after Will. But with the recent bad memories of fire, she couldn’t make herself move. “Will…” she whispered, biting her lip to try to stop the tears.

Danny stood beside her with his hand gripped tightly on her shoulder to keep him steady. “I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly, which was almost drowned out by the crackling and roaring of the flames. “He should’ve come with us…”

Ashlin shook her head as the first tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s my fault,” she mumbled as she looked up at Danny. “I told him to stay—”

“It’s not,” he persisted as he pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her and then shook his head. “We need to get back to base before anything happens to us. I’m sure that Brandon will already be furious. Losing you or me would only make him blinder,” he sighed.

Ashlin was silent for a moment. “What about Jesse?” she inquired, her yellow eyes glued to the flames behind Danny.

She felt Danny sigh against her as he looked down at her. “Brandon needs to know about this first. Jesse… If he’s near, he’ll be okay.”

Ashlin looked up at him biting her lip and then nodded. “Alright. Fine.”


	14. Chapter 14

Ashlin sat in the chair behind Brandon’s desk with her head buried in her arms on the desk. Brandon had disappeared—of course, he would at the time that they needed him—and Ashlin had decided that they needed to stay to make sure her father knew what happened. Danny sat in the chair across from the desk, his green eyes focused on her worriedly.

The whole walk back from the field Ashlin had been quiet. If she _did_ manage to talk, she was almost in tears. Danny wasn’t sure if he completely understood. She had told him that she and Will weren’t close, and he could tell—for the most part—that from the way they acted around each other. But the way she was acting now… It only confused him more than he normally was confused.

There was a surprised gasp from Brandon as he entered the room, obviously not expecting Danny or Ashlin to be there. He cleared his throat before finally speaking up. “Where’s Will?” he inquired quietly, his brown eyes fixed on Ashlin.

 _He should be here_ , Danny thought. Ashlin made no effort to move or speak. “He’s dead,” Danny murmured softly as he rubbed his forehead roughly with his fingers.

Brandon’s dark eyes snapped to Danny in astonishment. “What?” he demanded, sounding thoroughly confused as he shook his head. “Will couldn’t be.”

Danny glared at him. “Then maybe you can explain why your daughter is crying and why we’re sitting in this room _without_ Will,” he snapped.

The general fell silent as his brown eyes focusing on Ashlin. “What happened?” he questioned quietly.

Ashlin didn’t move her head off the desk. “Fire,” she muttered into the desktop.

Brandon looked to Danny for an explanation, but Danny only shook his head. “No idea how it started,” he said with a sigh. “I never saw anyone around. We didn’t even see the fire until it was too late…” Danny licked his lips as he took a deep breath. “Her guess was that John was near or he had someone start the fire. They knew we were going to be there one way or another.”

“Then there’s a spy here somewhere,” Brandon grumbled, his dark brown eyes starting to gleam furiously. “It’s not who I thought it was,” he added quietly as he looked toward Ashlin who still had her face on his desk. “Have you seen the doctors yet?”

Ashlin jerked her head up and stared at him accusingly. “I’m not hurt,” she said stiffly. “Not that you would care.” Danny held his breath, waiting for Brandon’s reply. If it ended up being one of their yelling bouts, he didn’t want to be around—not that he really had a choice at this point. He couldn’t just walk out.

Brandon clenched his jaw anxiously. “I was just asking,” he murmured.

Ashlin continued to stare at him, yellow eyes burning. “Is there anything we can do…?” Danny inquired quietly, making Ashlin’s eyes snap to him in surprise. “To take our minds off all of this?”

Brandon inhaled deeply with an upward glance. “What about Will’s horse?” he asked, eyes swiveling toward Ashlin. “His horse is still there, isn’t he?”

Ashlin drew in a sharp breath and then nodded slowly before looking away from Brandon. “I’ll go down and see him later… Do you want to come with me then?”

For a moment, Danny wasn’t sure who she was talking to. He realized that she’d been talking to him. He felt stupid for even assuming she’d been talking to Brandon. “Yeah,” Danny said blinking his eyes to focus himself. “Yeah, of course.”

‡

“Jesse? You want some pie?”

Jesse’s ocean blue eyes widened as he looked in the direction of the voice. “Pie?” he repeated, a slight French accent light in his voice. “What kind?”

“The kind you eat,” came the semi-annoyed and sarcastic voice of Will. “Come and get it before Dad eats it all.”

Jesse sighed as he slumped in his chair. Will sounded a lot like any other normal American boy, while he still had his French accent on most of his words “Coming,” he muttered pushing himself out of his chair. While Will had a tough time learning English, Jesse hadn’t, but that had come with the French accent that he couldn’t shake. People generally looked toward Will to speak, not Jesse. Not with the accent that wouldn’t allow him to fit in, or be understood half of the time.

He nearly ran into Emilie, his mother, who was leaning against the doorframe to the entrance of the kitchen. “Sorry,” he said flashing her a half apologetic, half nervous smile before continuing into the kitchen. Will was sitting at the breakfast bar with a small plate set in front of him, and a huge pie in front of that.

“About time,” Riley laughed as he pushed a plate in Jesse’s direction. “You’re lucky you caught me before I ate it all,” he teased with a warm smile.

Jesse smiled a little as he sat down beside Will at the dark granite breakfast bar, satisfied with the piece of pie. “So, when’s Ashlin supposed to come out here?” he inquired looking at his father as he pulled his plate toward him eagerly.

“Couple days,” Will said through a mouthful of pie. “Why’s it matter?” he inquired, mouth still full of pie, as he faced him with a raised eyebrow and an accusing glare.

“’Cause unlike you, I have friends,” Jesse said sticking his tongue out at him before shoveling a bite of pie into his mouth with a smug smile at the scowl that Will threw at him. “I thought you liked Ashlin anyway,” he added looking down at his piece of pie.

“Not when I have to share my room,” Will grumbled with a sour look.

“You don’t have to,” Jesse huffed. “I told her that she could have my bed—”

“Yeah. Like three years ago. I don’t think she wants to sleep in your bed anymore,” Will said raising his head superiorly. “Why does she even have to come out here? I thought she wasn’t allowed away from her parents?”

“William,” Emilie murmured warningly to her older son “You don’t have to be so rude.” Will ignored her and continued to eat his pie stiffly.

“She doesn’t want to be around you anyway,” Jesse pointed out. “She wants to see the horses.”

“Don’t they have horses there?” Will grumbled.

Jesse’s face darkened. “Those people don’t take care of the horses there. I’m surprised they’re still alive,” he muttered sticking another forkful of pie in his mouth. “If she wanted to see half-dead horses, she wouldn’t bother coming out here.”

Will snorted in laughter. “Maybe she’ll see that she can’t stay at the base.”

Riley raised an eyebrow at Will. “She _has_ left the base before. She went to Philadelphia and New York a couple years ago,” he said.

Will met his father’s eyes with squinting ocean blue ones. “Yeah, but we’ve been to Canada and France and England. She’s never even left the country.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest as if that proved his point.

Riley shook his head while Jesse tilted his head to the side in question.

‡

Jesse coughed into the back of his hand, leaving dark specks of blood smeared across it. He heaved a small sigh as he forced himself to stumble forward.

He wasn’t sure how he was still alive, still moving. He’d yet to find a field with water or food like he thought he would. Instead, he’d found nothing but empty land stretching out in front of him for what seemed like forever. He never imagined that there could be so much emptiness in one place.

‡

“Do you think Charlie knows?” Danny asked standing about ten feet away from the dun horse, eyeing him as if he was trying to figure out how to get near the horse without Charlie noticing him.

Ashlin shrugged her shoulders as she ran a hand along Charlie’s flank. “I guess he’ll realize it sooner or later,” she sighed quietly. “If we find Jesse, he’ll take care of Charlie.”

Danny stared at her sympathetically. “We’ll find him,” he promised. “Who was John closer to? Will or Jesse?”

Ashlin’s yellow eyes flickered toward Danny for a short moment before returning to Charlie. “Will,” she murmured. “Danny, the man’s lost it. He’s probably the one who killed his own nephew. He sent Hunter here knowing Brandon would suspect he was a spy. He blew the truck my mother and I were in. If the man has any sanity left, he keeps it in a jar in Asia.”

Danny ran a hand through his hair at the back of his head staring at her in amusement. “In Asia?” he snorted. She scowled at him. “Okay, okay. Sorry. What I don’t get is why Brandon doesn’t send someone to try to talk sense into John—”

Ashlin stared at him as if he was the stupidest person she’d ever seen. “Do you think he _hasn’t_ done that?” Ashlin inquired icily. “He tried once and almost ended up dead, and before that we sent people but we never saw them again. They disappeared. Gone off the radar. Bye-bye person.”

“Why not send me?” Danny suggested shrugging his shoulder. “If he knew who Hunter was… I’m sure he knows who I am.”

Ashlin scoffed at that. “Yeah, and look at how that turned out.”

“After we find Jesse… I could see if Brandon will let me. Maybe I’ll be able to stop him. Maybe I can bring Jesse with me and we can both try,” he murmured. “Do you really think he’d kill his last living relative?” Ashlin only stared at him. “Okay. I wouldn’t put it past him either. But, if there’s a chance… Why not?”

She shook her head in disbelief at him for not listening to her. “Because, _Danny_ , even if we find Jesse. You two are the only people I have left. If you go, and John kills you or does whatever the hell it is he does with people… I’ll never see either of you again. I’ll have nobody. And I’m not considering _Brandon_ a person to go to at this point.” Ashlin leaned forward and kissed Charlie’s muzzle lightly before walking toward him. “You know how it feels to have nobody. So do I. And I don’t want to feel it again.”

Danny sighed. “Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”

“No. I just know what John’s capable of.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, half in amusement, half in question. “Well, it guess that’s up to Brandon,” he said stiffly.

Ashlin set her jaw as she stared at him with a frown. “I can tell Brandon not to let you go.”

“I’m a second lieutenant,” Danny grinned.

“I’m his daughter.”

He shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn’t be bothered. “You don’t act like it.”

Ashlin fell silent as she stared at him in disbelief. “Danny, you’re _not_ going. If you go, you’re going to die. I’ll be left at this stupid base with Brandon because you decided it would be cool to go try to be badass—”

“I _am_ badass.”

“—and ended up getting killed,” Ashlin finished ignoring Danny.

“Then come with us,” he suggested as he cracked his knuckles. “Because apparently you think I need supervision.”

Ashlin rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. “No. Well, yeah, you probably do. But I’m more concerned with what John will do with you,” she grumbled throwing Charlie a glance over her shoulder when the dun whickered at her. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Without Jesse, we’re probably going to be murdered.”

Danny stared at her dumbfounded. “You, not me. He doesn’t know me.”

She had to resist the urge to slap him. “He saw Hunter. You look _exactly_ like him. John already knows about you. One glance at me and he’ll have the TNT out.”

He grinned at her mischievously. “Tell John you’re Jesse’s girlfriend,” he suggested. “Who in their right mind would kill their nephew’s girlfriend?”

“He’s _not_ in his right mind, Danny…” she grumbled forcing herself to look away before she punched him. “And I don’t think that Jesse would agree to that.”

“Why not? Other than you can beat someone to death… And you can be annoying with your languages… You’re pretty,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “If he doesn’t think that, then I don’t know. Maybe he needs some glasses.”

“Maybe it’s you that needs the glasses,” Ashlin laughed. “We’ll see.” She looked over her shoulder at Charlie. “Wanna take him out?” she inquired, yellow eyes flickering back to Danny for a moment.

Danny looked almost like he could die of excitement. For a moment, it seemed that he’d forgotten about the events in the last few hours. “Yes,” he said grinning.

‡

“Boss, you’re going to want to see this,” Baker mumbled as he walked toward John, shoes crackling over the sandy-rocky ground. The man looked like he was afraid that John would hit him as he pointed over his shoulder, flinching when John marched past him with no real expression showing on his face.

John continued in the direction that Baker had pointed him in and stopped in his tracks when he swore what he was looking at was the remains of burnt bones. “Baker…” he trailed off looking over his shoulder with slightly confused expression at what he was supposed to be looking at.

“Yes?” Baker inquired as he slunk toward John.

“Is this what I’m supposed to be looking at?”

Baker took his time answering. “Er… Yes,” he mumbled.

“Any idea who it is?” John asked, his patience running low. He turned to face the man, his stormy grey eyes locked on him waiting for his answer.

Baker shook his head wildly. “No, sir,” he said, eyes darting away from John before he could make eye contact. “We found pieces of a truck here. Not sure who came here, but we’re sure they didn’t leave.”

“Did you scout the area?” John inquired looking back over his shoulder at the burnt bones.

“Uh, no, sir. We haven’t done that yet,” Baker mumbled biting his lip as he tried to look over John’s shoulder at the bones behind him. “Like I said. I don’t think anyone left here. The truck, whoever it was that took it out here, is in pieces. Burnt.”

John released an annoyed sigh as he looked back at Baker. “Find out who it was. I want to know.”

Baker swallowed and then nodded quickly. “Of course,” he murmured with a sigh as he walked behind John.

John only rolled his eyes as he walked away from Baker. He was getting annoyed with his men. None of them seemed to realize that if they didn’t do something they were likely to be killed. Moving closer to the base seemed to make them jumpier and forget what they’d known, which only annoyed John even more.

The bones _did_ worry John though. While he’d leveled cities and towns before… He knew that Jesse and Will were out here somewhere. If either of them ended up getting hurt or killed, he didn’t know what he would do if they _had_ sided with Brandon. They were family… As much as he didn’t want them to side with the general, he didn’t want them hurt.

“Baker, when you’re done, bring the bones to the truck. I want them packed up and taken back to New Orleans,” he said throwing the words over his shoulder as he headed off in a different direction toward a group of his men setting up a tent.

“Boss,” one of them said, and almost dropped the side of the tent he was holding up. “I found some footprints heading out of here.”

“Any way of telling who they belonged to?”

The man shook his head. “No, the wind’s blown over it a little bit. But you could see three sets at one point, and only two heading off in the direction of the base. You think it could be that kid you sent out here a while ago?” he inquired.

John just barely shook his head. “No. I’m sure Brandon is… Nicer about his endings. Fire’s not a slow enough death for him,” he muttered. “Someone else,” he sighed.

The man licked his lips and then dipped his head. “I’ll keep looking. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

‡

“Oh, c’mon Charlie,” Ashlin huffed as she tugged on the reigns when the dun came to a sudden halt. “What is your issue with men?” she muttered heaving a sigh as she tightened her grip on the reign in annoyance.

“I thought you said he liked Jesse?” Danny murmured fidgeting behind her.

“He does. Well, at least according to Will,” Ashlin said over her shoulder. “Let go of me. I’ve got to talk to a horse,” she muttered as Danny removed his hands from her waist. She slid off Charlie’s back and stood in front of him, staring at him in annoyance. He only stared back.

“Are you winning?”

Ashlin’s golden eyes snapped up to Danny. “Winning?” she questioned in confusion.

“The staring contest. Are you winning?” Danny inquired with a grin.

Ashlin scowled at him. “Shut up.”

“Okay. Fine. Stare at the horse while I just sit up here,” Danny said, a smug look on his face as he patted Charlie’s mane triumphantly.

Ashlin muttered something under her breath about boys being stupid before holding a hand out for Charlie to sniff. “What’s the matter?” she murmured patting his muzzle after he nudged her hand. “Danny’s a nice boy,” she promised. _Most of the time_ , she added inwardly. “Please, Charlie?”

Charlie only stared back at her

She sighed and looked at Danny. “We might have to go back,” she muttered before turning her eyes that were squinting with accusation back toward Charlie.

Danny pushed himself off Charlie’s back. “No need. I’ll walk him. You ride. Obviously he doesn’t like me… For whatever reason.”

Ashlin thought for a moment, trying to find a way to tell him that he didn’t need to do that. Of course, Danny would _never_ listen to her, so she pushed the idea away and climbed onto Charlie’s back with a boost from Danny.

“This horse is stubborn,” Danny huffed as he tugged on the reigns attached to Charlie’s brindle. “You won’t last long out here if you don’t move.”

“How didn’t you know that before?” Ashlin mumbled shaking her head.

“Because I’m no good at paying attention,” Danny said giving the reigns one last tug, making Charlie finally give in. “Thank God,” he muttered rolling his eyes as he continued forward.

Ashlin ran her hand through Charlie’s mane as the horse plotted on, every once in a while stopping stubbornly, making Danny grumble things about horses being stupid and selfish.

“You know,” Ashlin said after about a half-hour of them walking in silence, “Will thought you liked me,” she finished.

Danny snorted in amusement as he continued walking. “While you might be pretty, no. I’m sure he was just trying to make trouble for you.”

Ashlin raised an eyebrow at the back of his head. “Trouble for me?” she laughed

Danny held his head up, brushing back his hair that was starting to get too long again. “Yes. I have this nagging voice in my head that sounds a lot like you saying, ‘Well, she likes you. That’s why she hasn’t run away in fear or killed you because you’re annoying.’” He looked back at her and flashed her a grin before looking back at the landscape in front of him. “Wait. No. That’s just my conscience. It tells me that for everyone.”

She scoffed as she rolled her eyes at him. “If I didn’t then Brandon would have killed you. And I’d much rather leave the killing to me.”

Danny seemed to ignore that. “My conscience is rarely right,” he said finally, amusement making his tone light, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “We should probably start heading back. It’s getting late and if we have to walk the whole way, it’s going to be a _long_ night,” he sighed as he stopped walking and turned to Charlie who nearly ran him over.

“Guess you’re right,” Ashlin agreed as she patted Charlie’s neck. She’d hardly noticed that the sun had started to set behind them. She’d been too busy paying attention to Charlie and trying not to hit Danny for his stupid remarks.

Danny squinted behind Ashlin who turned as much as she could on the horse’s back. “You see that?” he inquired pointing toward a small moving thing behind them.

Ashlin tried to focus on whatever it was, but she couldn’t entirely. “Yeah, I see it,” she murmured.

“I’ll go check it out,” Danny said as he let the reign fall from his hand.

He had only taken a step forward when Ashlin interrupted him. “I’ll go,” she said. “I’ve got the horse anyway. I’ll get there quicker,” she said. “You got your pistol?”

Danny stiffened at the word ‘pistol’ but then nodded slowly before grabbing it from his holster. “Just… Be careful.”

Ashlin nodded as he handed her Charlie’s reigns. The moment she had them in her hands she slapped them gently against Charlie before speeding away. As she neared the small moving object, she felt as if her heart was going to stop.

She pulled the reigns back on Charlie just a bit to make him slow down as she closed in on what she assumed was her friend. “Are you alright?” she asked as Charlie came to a halt near the boy who was dressed mostly in tatters.

He looked up at her, his ocean blue eyes unfocused as they met hers. “Ash—” he started before breaking off in a coughing bout.

“ _Danny_!” she yelled over her shoulder, her heart racing. It _was_ Jesse. And he looked like he was on the verge of dying. “Oh my God, Jesse.” She pushed herself off Charlie’s back and dropped down beside him as he stopped coughing. “What happened?” She held a hand up. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. You need help.”

He looked like he was attempting to laugh, but ended up doubling over in pain. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “Help’s nice,” he said, his voice rough.

Danny came thundering up beside her with a worried expression, not even out of breath. “Is this…?” Ashlin only nodded, her hair falling in her eyes. She batted it away from her face trying to steady Jesse. “I’ll stay with him. You ride Charlie back and get a truck to get help.”

She bit her lower lip as she looked back at Danny, not wanting to leave Jesse in this condition. She shook her head as if coming out of a daze. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be back. You stay with Danny, okay, Jesse?”

Jesse gave her the slightest of nods before she mounted up again.

‡

Jesse closed his eyes as Ashlin rode away on Charlie. Charlie… His brother’s horse. Where was Will?

“Hey. Hello,” the boy Ashlin had called Danny said as he grabbed his arm to keep him steady. “I’m Danny. I’m gonna help you, alright?”

Jesse nodded painfully. “Okay.”


End file.
